A Happy Start to a Different World
by TechnicolorAxolotl
Summary: In one world, Harry Potter grew up unloved in a cupbard under the stairs. In another he might have never lost his parents. This is not that world, but it is a different one. A different beginning can mean a world of difference.
1. Chapter 1

Vernon Dursley was an early bird, had been since he was little. Every morning he got up to start the coffee, he would step outside to get the paper, he would turn on the tv, already turned to the news channel, and set out the eggs bread and bacon for his petunia to cook when she came down in about an hour. That routine had changed a little bit a year ago when his son was born, but usually that just meant he would have to be holding his little dudley while he went through his routine.

Vernon liked his routine, he was never against change, but life was so much easier when he never had to think about the little things.

Wake up. Make coffee. Console crying son. Get newspaper. Set out ingredients for breakfast. Say good morning to beautiful wife. Eat breakfast. Go to work.

Sometimes he was the one who made breakfast, on weekends he didn't go to work, some days dudley wasn't crying and didn't need to be taken out of his crib yet. But for the most part, that was his routine. And he liked it.

November 1st 1981 started just like any other day, he got up and went to make his coffee. As he was pouring his first cup he started to hear crying, already resigning himself to a morning of crying and soiled nappies. Five minutes later he walked back down his stairs with his son cradled lovingly in one arm, and his coffee cradled lovingly in the other.

He was up a little earlier than normal today, he beat the paperboy, so he had to watch the pre news infomercials with a babbling son and nothing to read. It's not that he minded so much, he loved playing with his little dudley, but the newspaper was part of his routine for years, and it always felt a little strange to have to wait for it.

When he heard the distinctive thunk against his front door, his smile widened just a little. Making his way to the door, son snoozing away in his arm, he prepared for the next part of what he thought was just going to be another routine day.

He knew the second he looked down at his doorstep just how wrong he was.

* * *

Vernon Dursley wasn't a very forgiving man. It wasn't something he was exactly proud of, but he knew it to be a fact of himself, and at this point in life he had resigned to it being a permanent part of himself. He just had too much trouble looking at someone that had wronged him (or god forbid his petunia or dudley) and thinking of anything but how he was wronged. When a friend in primary school had tripped him Vernon didn't speak to him for weeks, and he never really forgave the other kid.

When his amazing wife Petunia and her sister Lily had a falling out years ago, which ended in he and Lily's husband James getting into a fist fight (that Vernon was proud to say he won), he was perfectly happy throwing them to the curb, telling his darling Petunia that he would never forgive her sister Lily or her deadbeat husband for the things said. And despite her broken heart Petunia was eventually willing to join him in that, completely shutting off all contact with her sister.

Then those two had to go and die, and that damned Dumbledore (whoever the hell he was) had to leave their deadbeat son on his doorstep.

It had been just under a month since the child had been rudely dropped into their lives, and Vernon was not happy. The child was objectively no different than his own son, but every time he was forced to change a nappy, or feed him, or console his son in the middle of the night because the thing refused to sleep through the night, it drove him progressively more insane.

And the little thing looked exactly like a young version of his parents. With a head of hair that was a disturbing shade of red (almost like blood he noted once to his wife) and practically glowing green eyes he was eerily similar to Lily. But Vernon could tell just looking at him that he would grow up to look the spitting image of his despicable father.

Vernon did not want that child in his home. He did not want that child disturbing his perfectly simple life. He did not want any magic in his home, ever. He did not want any reminder of What those two said and did to his darling petunia (and while he never said it, yes to himself as well).

But what was the worst about this situation? Petunia seemed to actually care for the little shit. She had been treating him the same as she treated their own son. Despite everything her sister and brother in law had done to her, she still looked at the brat with love in her eyes, in under a month coming to vernon proudly with every little benign thing "harry" did, like that thing wasn't a living reminder of her freakish family.

Vernon would never forgive His brother and sister in law for treating his wife the way they did, he would never forgive the magic world as a whole for corrupting the perfect little sister petunia used to talk about all the time, and he could never see Harry James Potter as anything but a reminder of all that hatred he had in him for those people.

* * *

Vernon Dursley liked to think he was a calm person. He knew how to keep his head in most situations, and he definitely knew what his limits were. He knew intimately what would get his anger roiling just under his skin, what might just be a simple nuisance, and what would barely phase him. Traffic barely phased him, he had accepted it as just an unavoidable part of his life when he first got his license. Being out of coffee or the paper being late was a minor nuisance, he could just wait for the paper and his office had a coffee maker, even if it was 30 years old, shocked you every time you plugged it in, and it made a truly awful cup of coffee. He liked to call it shocky. But his nephew, specifically his lovely wife doting on his filthy freak of a nephew set his blood aboil every day he came home and saw that thing in her lap.

The little shit was everywhere he looked. When he went to check on his son, that shit was playing with him on a blanket on the living room floor. He put his son down for bed and had to watch as the little freak cuddled up to him in the crib his Petunia insisted they share. He had to sit right next to the monster at the table just so that he wouldn't have to look at it, going so far as to lean forward enough to keep it out of his peripherals.

Petunia was smitten with the thing. She would coo at it and feed it the same food from the same can and same spoon that she would feed his wonderful Dudley. She seemed even happier the past few months with the thing than she had when they came home with their darling little dudders.

Even worse was that Dudley was the same. He and the freak would play together, laugh together, sleep and eat together, they acted like Vernon had always hoped Dudley would act if he ever got a brother. And it made him sick. Watching his beautiful son hug his freak of a cousin, watching them crawl after each other and play with the toys that were supposed to be Dudleys and Dudleys only. The thing was not his brother, Vernon refused to even acknowledge it as his cousin.

And its crying. It never seemed to stop crying. They got it up for breakfast, it would cry, watching the news it would cry, he and dudley would be playing and suddenly it'd just start crying, they put him down for bed and it woke him up every hour in a fit of crying. Vernon knew that babies were supposed to cry, that it was good for them, it helped them stretch out and develop their voices. But the thing would never stop, every day would be crying, crying, and more crying. And Vernon hated how much it hurt him some nights to hear it, how he had to physically stop himself from helping Petunia sooth the child.

But worse than all that, worse than everything. Vernon hated how angry he would get at himself. He knew how wrong it was to blame a child, a baby, for the wrongdoings of its parents. He knew that he was being awful and terrible and that he would condemn anyone else doing the same things he was doing. He knew that petunia would glare at him anytime he let out an unconscious growl at seeing the little thing, that she was appalled at him and just wouldn't say it.

But he just couldn't help it.

He couldn't look at the thing and not be reminded of his in laws, of how much petunia had cried when they had their falling out and cut them from their lives. Of how much had been said and done, and the sheer fact lily and her damned husband seemed to think they hadn't been in the wrong. He couldn't watch the levitating toys or the color changing clothes and know that those monsters, those freaks, those wizards he hated would make him the same as his parents. He couldn't let himself believe that the thing might be able to one day hurt Dudley like Lily had hurt Petunia.

But he lived with it. And now he was just having another saturday night, reading a book while Petunia watched the kids play on the floor.

He heard the telltale coo from Petunia, one of them was trying to walk. They'd been working on it for weeks, they would pull up to wobble on their tiny feet, waddle a few feet and then fall down, and either whine a little bit or get back up and try again.

Suddenly he felt a small thump against his leg, looking down he could see it clutching at his pants and staring up at him in his recliner. (vernon noted he had been across the room seconds before)

"Daddaaa~"

And vernons blood ran cold.

* * *

Petunia Dursley was a loving woman. She had spent her childhood making friends everywhere she went. She would look after her baby sister, she took pride in how well she thought she could protect her sister. She even grew to like that little boy that lily had befriended, severus was his name, despite his rather abrasive personality. She could tell he liked Lily, and if he liked Lily it was her job to make sure that he liked her too, so that he would never feel bad when Petunia wanted to be with her sister, when she insisted that they include herself too.

It hurt when Lily went away to that school. It hurt that Lily got to go and she didn't. And it hurt that she now had to keep a secret from all the people in the world that she loved. But She loved her sister too, and she would do it to keep her sister safe and happy. And oh how happy she was, Lily would write letters practically everyday about how much she loved learning about magic, and in the summers in between school she would show Petunia everything she could about magic. And Petunia loved magic because of how much it made Lily happy.

When lily came home one day after her sixth year at that school, hogwarts, Petunia could tell right away that her little sister was in love, and she was so excited to introduce Lily to her new love as well. Lily and Petunia were as close as close could be, and when james made a trip to meet Lily's family, Petunia could easily see why Lily would fall in love with him. He was kind and playful, friendly and smart. Everything that Lily used to say she wanted in a man.

It was the happiest moment in Petunia's life when Lily asked her to be her maid of honour. Made even better seconds later when she was asked to help plan the wedding. That happiness didn't let up until after the wedding. Petunia must have cried so much she could swear the cold she had the day after was partially due to dehydration.

It broke Petunias heart when she had to cut ties with her sister. Lily had been distant ever since her wedding, just after they got out of that school. She had been distant, she wouldn't share anything with petunia anymore, and she refused to allow Petunia anywhere near the magic that she loved so much.

One day, barely a week after she found out she was pregnant, her darling Vernon had suggested that they make a surprise trip up to that little town that Lily had moved to, Godric's Hollow it was called, and tell her that she would be an aunt. Petunia loved that idea so much that they left within the hour. She knew it hurt Vernon seeing how much she hated not having her darling little sister in her life, and she knew he tried to do everything he could to help mend the gap that had appeared between them.

Lily was visibly surprised when they showed up on her doorstep, but she allowed them in, and they had a good day. Lily opened up a little bit, Petunia could tell that Lily was happy having her there. Things looked good. Then Petunia sat Lily and her husband James down to talk, and told her the great news. Lily was shocked once again that day, but she smiled and looked to James, and they turned and told Petunia and Vernon some good news of their own. Petunia was happier than she had been in months, since Lily began to distance herself.

In her excitement Petunia told Lily that she couldn't wait for their children to grow up together, that they could be born so close together that they might as well be brothers! And everything went wrong. Lily clammed up, she looked terrified, and she told petunia that couldn't happen. That Petunia couldn't see her anymore. That she couldn't meet Lily's child, and they could never meet Petunia's.

Petunia was shocked, she was confused and angry, she stood up and began to scream at Lily "Why?! Why can't I be part of your life?! Why are you pushing me away, what did I do?!" And lily screamed back "Because it's too dangerous, you don't belong in the magical world!" and things had spiraled from there. Petunia had screamed and cried, Lily screamed and tried to hold back from crying, James and Vernon were yelling and then both of them seemed to yell together "Just get out of our house you muggles!" yelled james, "You don't belong here Petunia, you're just a muggle and you need to leave!" yelled Lily, and finally vernon had enough. Next thing Petunia knew she was staring at a Crying Lily and Vernon had James pinned to the ground with his considerable weight and both of their fists flying.

That was the last time that Petunia had seen her sister. From what little she knew lily and her husband had gone into hiding, and Petunia never heard anything from her again. Not even a letter sent with that beautiful white owl of hers she had gotten before her third year of school so she wouldn't have to keep borrowing the school owls.

Petunia carried on through her pregnancy in a daze. Slowly she began to forget about her sister, loving the efforts Vernon took to try to make up for what happened. He went from ignoring their neighbors completely to inviting them over practically every day, entrenching themselves in the community, making friends and giving Petunia more and more to help distract her from her sister. He learned to cook, making her all her favorites so she wouldn't have to slave away at the kitchen every day. He started watching her shows with her, even engaging in conversations hoping to show he was actually paying attention, that he was really making the effort. And when she began to expand, going from walking to limping to waddling he even took her to maternity and birthing classes. He held her hand and didn't complain despite his obvious discomfort. It helped, more than she could ever express to her Vernon, and every day she loved him more and more for how much he showed he cared.

When their Dudley came into the world Petunia was happy. She finally began to move on. Only briefly did she allow herself to think that Lily might be having her child soon too, if she hadn't already had them. But she devoted herself to her son, she lived her new life as a mother and she was happy once again. There was a hole in her heart, she knew it, but she could move on, live her life like it wasnt there.

For over a year she moved on, hoping the hole was shrinking on its own, and she looked forward to every milestone with her adorable son.

Until the day that she came down to make breakfast, and saw her Vernon holding a second baby, staring at a sealed letter on the coffee table in front of him.

And she understood. Her baby sister was involved in a blood war in the magical world. She had been trying to keep Petunia away from it. The letter was from Lily herself, and Petunia couldn't keep reading only sentences in when it detailed the only reason she would ever get ahold of the letter, would be if she had been taken. Struck down from the hiding they had been forced into. The now tear soaked letter begged forgiveness, and that Petunia and Vernon please take in their son.

Petunia cried for days for the loss of her baby sister. She cried for even more that she had never said goodbye, that the last time she saw her was when Vernon broke James's jaw. And she cried harder for the child cradled in her arms without his parents to love him as she knew they had.

Petunia swore that she would love Harry, that she would raise him to be as sweet and curious and intelligent as his mother had been. Within weeks the lines between Harry and her Dudley began to blur, she already loved him in a way that she believed only a mother could. She had spoken with Vernon several times before, they had every intention of having a big family, and with every passing month she knew more and more that harry would be a part of it.

But with every passing month, her growing disgust with her husband became harder and harder to ignore. She knew that Vernon had trouble forgiving people, one of the first things she learned in their relationship was how to avoid fights and arguments. But she had hoped when Harry came into their lives that Vernon could at least prevent himself from weighing his feelings on Lily and James onto little Harry's head. He apparently couldn't. With every refusal to hold the boy, every frustrated sigh at his turn to change Harry, with every attempt to not have to look at him it drove Petunia a little further away.

It hurt to know that Vernon would be like that. Vernon was so caring and attentive before harry came into their lives. He still acted like that when it was just them, or with their own son Dudley. But when it came to Harry, Vernon became so spiteful, so… Petty.

Petunia was stuck. She didn't know how to broach the subject with him. She couldn't even fathom why he would treat a child with such contempt. Yes they had an argument with Lily and James. But that wasn't Harry's fault. Vernon should know that.

She wished she knew what to do. She wished she could show vernon what a sweet little thing that Harry was. She wished she could talk to Vernon about the little things that concerned her about Harry, like that sometimes he would struggle moving, or that he seemed to drop just about everything he held, or even that he moved his entire head more often than he would move his eyes to look at someone. She wished she were strong enough to tell Vernon how wrong he was for the way he would treat a child of barely two.

But she lived with it. And now it was just another saturday, Watching delightedly as her boys played on the livingroom floor.

Unconsciously she let out a little coo at Harry when he started to pull himself up onto his feet, using her leg as leverage. The boys had been trying for weeks, Dudley could walk from one end of a room to another, but Harry was still struggling. He would pull up to his feet, but most times he would just wobble so bad he would collapse before he could even take a step, and the times he could get a few steps it seemed strained, he wouldn't look up from his feet until he had managed get himself to something to hold onto.

Today was a good day. He'd tried a few times already, and each times he got a few steps further. Petunia couldn't help but swell with pride when he made it even further than he did last, he made it all the way to Vernons recliner. Clutching at Vernon's leg she could see him look up at Vernon.

"Daddaaa~"

Petunia could see Vernon's entire body tense.

* * *

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!?" Petunia was screaming, holding back tears as she clutched a crying Harry and Dudley against her chest.

"Petunia I…" Vernon started, but Petunia was having none of it "Why would you EVER do that Vernon? What could possibly possess you to lay your hands on a child like that!" Petunia was more furious than she had ever been.

"Pet' I-"

"Don't 'Pet' me Vernon! You slapped Harry! Why on earth would you do that!"

"Petunia I am not that 'Things' father, I don't even want him here!" Vernon shouted back, pointing at the wailing baby in her arms.

"Your petty resentment does not justify laying your hands on a baby!" Petunia was crying now, turning her body away from Vernon.

"Petty?! Petunia have you forgotten what his parents said to us? To you?" Vernon tried to take a step towards her, flinching when she stepped away in response. "What right do those freaks have to leave that thing here without even so much as a greeting? Just a letter to explain?

"It doesn't matter what his parents might have done Vernon, he is not his parents. And I shouldn't have to tell you that Vernon!"

Vernon hesitated for a second, "Petunia I can't, why can't you see that it doesnt belong here, Every day I see more signs that it will turn out just like its parents before it. Going off to that 'school' for most of the year away from the rest of the world, looking down on anyone that can't use its precious 'magic'."

"You don't know that Vernon! How could you possibly know what kind of person he could grow up to be? What if we raised him to be better than that? With enough Love we cou-" Petunia was saying, but Vernon cut her off before she could finish "Enough love? How could you expect me to love that THING even a little bit? Your parents were the most caring and attentive people i've ever met, and they couldn't stop your sister from turning into that could they? How are you going to be any different when he spends almost all of his time with them!" Vernon was angry now, angrier at least, trying to get Petunia to see reason.

"I can't just give up on him because theres a chance he might change when we could stop it! How can you give up on a baby? Not even 2 years old? How horrified and enraged would you be if we were to pass and someone treated Dudley the way you have treated Harry?" Petunia begged, tears choking her up every few words.

"Dudley is not the same, and we aren't gone! They are! And good riddance I say!" Venon screamed, red faced with anger.

Petunia gasped, shock and anger flushing away everything else. "Get out…" She whispered.

"What?"

"Get Out." She said again, a little more forcefully.

"Petun-" Vernon tried, before taking a shocked step back when petunia started screaming at him. "GET OUT! GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT! GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE!" Petunia was hunched over, her eyes clenched shut and clutching her boys so tightly to her chest that they started to thrash, crying out harder.

"Petunia wai-" Vernon tried desperate, but he was cut off again, with a loud "CRACK" disappearing from sight.

Petunia collapsed onto the floor, sobbing hard. Hugging her boys like a lifeline.

She didn't register the pounding on her front door.

She didn't notice when it stopped with a large thud, or the large shadow that blocked light from under the door for hours.

She didn't care to check when the shadow disappeared.

She just cried. And then she slept. And then she made her way in a daze to the boys bedroom where she curled up in their crib and slept with them. Not caring that the sun had long since set.

* * *

Vernon Dursley never liked living alone. He had lived alone for a few years during college, having gotten "lucky" and been in an odd number of candidates for his dorm, and been the one chosen to live alone. Living alone meant there was nothing stopping you from never socializing, being with other people. It meant having to do all the washing up alone, or having to cook and eat out for one. No one you could talk to or even just sit in comfortable silence with.

When he graduated and needed to find a place to live, he immediately asked his at the time girlfriend of barely 6 months, Petunia Evans, to move in with him, do the house hunting with him. She had agreed happily, and a few months later they had an amazing house in a great neighborhood and were delighting in each other.

When Petunia kicked him out he spent hours at the door, trying to get back in at first, so he could try to apologize. Then he just sat on his stoop, slumped against the door wishing he hadn't taken it too far. He knew he had. The entire fight was his fault and he just wanted to apologize.

When his face had turned red from the sun 'why did we buy a house facing the west' he thought to himself not for the first time. He pulled himself up to his feet, and made his way to a bus stop, as he'd been locked out without his keys. A quick call to his boss and his company was putting him up at a hotel in London.

He lived there for nine weeks, calling home every day (sometimes twice) trying to get Petunia to even talk to him, when a lawyer knocked on his door and handed him a thick manilla envelope filled with papers.

Divorce Papers.

For the first time since… he honestly couldn't even remember the last time he'd cried. He'd been hoping that one day Petunia would let him talk to her, let him try to apologize, he would get on his hands and knees and beg for a chance at forgiveness, he would even promise to try to look past his brother and sister in-law. He would try to be a father to Harry if it meant he could have his Petunia back.

The first meeting with her lawyer she wouldnt look at him. When he tried to speak to her, her lawyer stated in no uncertain terms that this would become a domestic abuse case instead of just divorce if he tried to speak to Miss Evans again. He didn't even need his lawyer to tell him to stop talking, the shock of hearing her maiden name putting nothing but silence in his voice.

It didn't take him long to find an apartment. And he never bothered to ask for some of his furniture, he didn't feel he deserved it.

The second meeting with her lawyer went much the same as the first, he sat hoping she might say something, and she stared forward, looking at nothing and leaving promptly when their lawyers declared business done for the day. The same for the third. And the fifth. Petunia refused to even look at him.

Months went by and every day Vernon cursed himself for being the way he was. For being such an arse. His coworkers would tell him it wasn't his fault, lamenting his wife, claiming her batty. And every time he would deny it, saying again and again it was his fault. He knew the day he said those things that it was his fault. It couldn't have been Petunia's fault, all she tried to do was care about an orphaned child. He couldn't believe himself, horrified he would try to defend himself for harming a child. It destroyed him to know that it was his fault and his alone that this was happening. At times he didn't want her to even consider taking him back, and while it broke him inside he could never blame her for keeping his son from him.

That doesnt mean it didn't kill him when his sons birthday came and went. He cried for the second time in his adult life when his lawyer called him that morning to tell him Petunias lawyer had stated in no uncertain terms that if he was seen anywhere near number 4 Privet Drive the Constables would be notified.

Vernon hadn't recognized himself in months. Since he spent half a day slumped sunburnt on his own doorstep. He'd lost weight enough to worry his doctor and superiors. He'd shaved his face clean and buzzed his already short hair practically down to the scalp. He'd had to buy new clothes so many times these last months he'd stopped counting. He'd even been feeling slightly healthier, he'd taken to spending hours every night after work just walking the streets of London so he wouldn't have to be alone in an apartment that was itself a reminder of mistakes made.

It was a cold august when his final meeting with her lawyer before they were scheduled to meet with a judge came. He walked into that room heavy and downtrodden, knowing there wasn't much left before his marriage was finally over. But Petunia never came. She had apparently just recently taken on a third job to keep her home and provide for the boys, and no longer had any free time during the day. Her lawyer said that this meeting was merely a formality, that they didn't expect anything to change and just wanted to be able to tell a judge that all avenues had been searched.

Vernon called once again that night. He'd called every night since then, and every night he heard an answering machine. He'd stopped leaving messages after two months and nothing. He kept calling, every night, in hopes that she might one day pick up, even if only to immediately hang up. He took it as the only minor victory he would get that she hadnt had the number changed. Or the dial tone they had recorded together the day they moved in. But this night he couldn't help himself, with everything coming to an end in what would be just a few short weeks.

"Petunia I...I know you want nothing to do with me. I want nothing to do with me. I can't begin to atone for the mistakes i made. I know you've been fighting for full custody and...I'll give it to you. No fight. I'll call both our lawyers tomorrow, a-and I'll gladly pay whatever number you throw at me in alimony. I want you to be happy Petunia, I always wanted nothing more, and I'm sorry that I was the one to ruin it. Please, just make sure Dudley grows up happy, big and strong, and don't let him be anything like his father. The same goes for Harry, I know if there's anyone in this world that could raise him to be better than his kind, its you. I'll stop calling after tonight I… I wish you all the happiness in the world."

Vernon collapsed onto the floor, crying for the third time in his adult life.

* * *

Petunia was unhappy. Honestly that word couldn't even begin to cover it, but she refused to indulge her sadness. When she kicked Vernon out, she was broken. She spent days just trying not to let herself collapse again, trying to focus on the kids and absolutely nothing else.

That lasted for about 10 days.

Petunia remembered with some major embarrassment the day she went to the grocery with her boys, and her card was declined. She took out a few of her non-essentials. Still declined. More things taken out. More Declination. She had removed more than half her trolly, on the edge of tears with two fussy boys, when the store manager who'd wandered over at some point just told her to take it. She had refused vehemently, but ultimately the manager had forced her out, and a need to get her boys to sleep had her home.

She had a job waitressing at a pub within the week. And when she realized she wasn't making enough, she had another job cashiering a department store five weeks after that. She hated leaving her boys for so long everyday, giving her only a few hours with them, and she thanked god every day for Arabella Figg. Arabella was an incredibly friendly retired old woman, who'd never had a chance for kids of her own. She had been Petunia's neighbor for months, shortly after christmas she had moved to the neighborhood. And when Petunia needed someone to look after her boys Arabella had no less than demanded that she be tasked with sitting.

When Petunia was forced to get a second job Arabella had all but moved in, converting the guest bed into her own room. There had been quite the discussion about whether Arabella would be allowed to bring her cats with her, and ultimately she agreed to leave them in her own home. Later giving them away, because she no longer had the time or energy to take care of them and two growing toddlers.

It didn't take Petunia long to get her wits about her and hire a lawyer. And it didn't take her lawyer long to file the suit against Vernon. She had been stoutly ignoring all forms of contact Vernon tried to establish. She stopped even checking when the calls came in at seven every evening. She bought a bucket to make mulch out of the flowers he would occasionally send, and the shredder he had in his office got more use from cards and letters he tried to send than it had ever gotten from his own documents.

The first time she was forced to see him again was when she and her lawyer met with he and his. She'd been tense, she forced herself not to even look at him, barely acknowledging his presence, and she resolutely ignored the feelings of wanting to go to him and try to save their marriage. She refused to let herself be that weak.

What Vernon did, what he was doing for months was unforgivable. And she wouldn't be the woman that collapsed at his feet and just let him get away with his awful behavior because she MIGHT miss him and MAY still care.

It didn't matter if she still had those feelings. They were for the Vernon that didn't abuse children, not the Vernon that she was divorcing.

So life went on. She worked her arse off to pay her bills, and she spent as much time as she could every day with her boys. Months went by and winter turned spring, which turned to summer.

When June came around and Dudley's birthday arrived she was happy, she was allowed several days off and Arabella agreed to make herself scarce for a day or two. For just a few days it was just her and her boys. She got to watch excitedly as her little Dudley waddled around the house. She delighted that Harry was still having trouble walking sometimes and still needed her. She had been feeling for months that she was missing too much, that she wasn't seeing her sons grow up. Still being able to pick up one child when he fell or tripped over his own feet made her heart swell. She spent the entire day, several days in fact, just playing with her boys, she let them sleep in the same bed as her, loving how much they seemed to love to snuggle with each other and her. She gave them all the new toys and clothes that they had been given by their neighbors and Arabella and herself. Not once did her mind even slightly stray in the direction of Vernon. She told her lawyer to tell him he wasn't welcome and moved on. She didn't let it upset her when the boys might take each others toys or use each other for teething and cry out. She cooed lovingly when Harry struggled and she got to help him, or even better when Dudley would help him. She hoped one day soon she might get more time off so that she would get more time with them, not wanting to miss any more than she already was, but for now she took all the little victories and loved every second she could get.

In early September her pub received a major health infraction, when inspectors found rats in the walk-in. When they reopened only a week later business was shot so bad her pay had to be cut (all the staff had) and she was forced to get a third job. Her already scarce time was reduced to practically nothing. Her time with her boys was reduced to time spent sleeping with them, as Arabella had taken to putting them down in her bed.

She hated it. But it was necessary. She'd never finished college and had never had any real work experience beyond things that she was doing now. She went from getting a few hours with her boys, seeing them play and eat, now she got nothing, if she was lucky they would be too fussy to sleep and she might get to help put them down, or she would wake up early enough to feed them and herself a decent breakfast.

What was even worse was Harry. Arabella came to her every now and then saying she might be worried about him. He was three now and still he had trouble walking, too much trouble. Sometimes he seemed to even struggle moving. He wouldn't look up, almost always keeping his eyes level, instead moving his head itself to look around. It worried Arabella, and it worried Petunia. He never appeared sick, he got sick what she thought was a normal amount for a child, no more than dudley. She was scared to take him to a doctor and have them tell her it was nothing, some babies just had a bit of trouble, until they were older. She was even more scared to think that the doctor would tell her something was serious. She was stuck, and worst was she couldn't get any time to properly contemplate. She got passed the problems by never having the time or energy to think through them.

Petunia couldn't make it to what was to be her last meeting with Vernon's lawyer. She had work, and the thought that it was about to be over soon made her too emotional. When she hobbled in the door, stumbling to the dinner table to eat what Arabella had left for her before heading to bed. She ate in the dark, counting the remaining bites so she could finally get to bed, cuddle with her boys, and maybe wake up early enough to get some time with them before rushing off to her first shift.

Rrrrrrriiinnggg...Rrrrrrriiinnggg...Rrrrrrriiinnggg

The phone was ringing again.

Rrrrrrriiinnggg...Rrrrrrriiinnggg...Rrrrrrriiinnggg

Vernon was calling later than normal.

Rrrrrrriiinnggg...Rrrrrrriiinnggg...Rrrrrrriiinnggg

She ignored the feeling in her to answer it.

*Click*

And it was done. She moved toward the sink with her bowl, not having the stomach or energy to finish what little was left. She was turning on the tap to rin-

Beeep~ 'He hasnt left a message in months' she thought to herself

"Petunia I...I know you want nothing to do with me. I want nothing to do with me. I can't begin to atone for the mistakes i made. I know you've been fighting for full custody and...I'll give it to you. No fight. I'll call both our lawyers tomorrow, a-and I'll gladly pay whatever number you throw at me in alimony. I want you to be happy Petunia, I always wanted nothing more, and I'm sorry that I was the one to ruin it. Please, just make sure Dudley grows up happy, big and strong, and don't let him be anything like his father. The same goes for Harry, I know if there's anyone in this world that could raise him to be better than his kind, its you. I'll stop calling after tonight I… I wish you all the happiness in the world."

Petunia didn't register when she'd collapsed on the floor, or when she'd started crying again, or when Arabella came into the kitchen and began to try console her. She was so tired. She missed her Vernon, the one who devoted himself to her and their son. She was so worried about Harry and what might be wrong with him. She was so scared she might mess up raising two little boys on her own. Everything was so overwhelming and she couldn't hold it in anymore.

Poor Arabella had to cover her with a blanket and wedge a pillow under her head when she fell asleep on the kitchen floor.

'Why am i doing this?' Petunia asked herself once again. She was desperate. She had work, which she was already late for, and she had already used up all the few sick and vacation days she got. But Arabella was sick. Really sick. She had been throwing up for days, and had retired to her own house 'The dust and dirt in there from misuse must not be good her. She hasn't been in there in months' She thought to herself again. The boys had no one to look after them, all their neighbors were too busy, and she had no idea how to get ahold of any of the wizards who left Harry with her.

She'd tried to think of all her options. When she came upon this idea she spent all morning trying to think of something else, ANYTHING else. She couldn't, and one desperate call to her boss later she was forced to load her boys and the pram into her car, and drive to a place that she had never been before.

She spent the entire drive trying to convince herself that this wasn't a terrible idea (the word good never even crossed her mind) trying not to think that this would end in disaster. She hoped beyond hope that his message two weeks ago meant he was at least trying to change, that he wasn't just pretending to know that he was the one who made the mistakes that lead them here. And for the first time she lamented never having contact again, if she had she might know for more certain.

'319….317….313…..305' She was mentally counting down, she knew he lived in 301, the last door on the left of his hall. She pushed the pram forward, nervously adjusting the nappy bag on her shoulder again.

'Here it is' She sighed in her head, standing in front of his door and running through her mind once again to make sure that this was indeed her one and only option.

'Alright' She thought finally, resolving her fate.

*Knock Knock Knock*

And she did it. And a few seconds later she was staring Vernon Dursley in the face for almost a year.

He was surprised, that much she could tell. His mouth flustered for a bit trying to find something to say. It was a saturday morning, so he was still in those same flannel pajamas he always wore when he didn't need to get into work, Petunia squashed down the feeling that arose within her when she remembered she got those for him while they were still dating.

"I want to make clear right now Vernon, I am only doing this because I have absolutely no other options. I'm not here to tell you I want you back or that I've suddenly forgiven you. I'm not here to apologize for leaving, because I'm not sorry. But I have no other options right now, so I need you to watch the boys for the day." Petunia didn't even try to keep the contempt out of her voice, and she couldn't help the minor satisfaction she felt when the sadness crossed his face at her words.

"I shouldn't be letting you anywhere near either of them, you don't deserve it, but right now I have no choice. I think given what you've done you should be more than able to-"

"I'll do it." Vernon cut her off. Stopping her from the rant she was about to go on, fully prepared to guilt him into agreeing.

"W-What?" Petunia stuttered, not expecting this.

"I'll do it." He said again, "Watching them for a day is the least I can do after everything I put you through." He had a resigned look in his eye, like he was tired.

Petunia sputtered for a few seconds, trying and failing to keep her surprise off her face, before her eyes narrowed "If you do anything, if anything happens to my boys…" She left the warning in the air. There wasn't a need to finish the sentence and they both knew it.

She let herself into the apartment, pushing past as he sidestepped the pram with the boys. She stopped it next to the couch, setting the bag on the coffee table and quickly checking to make sure the boys were still sleeping soundly. Sparing a quick glance around the apartment had her a little surprised, there was nothing here. Other than just some furniture and a tv there was nothing, no decorations, books or movies, not even a new stack of newspapers like the one he'd had at home before. It was like he didn't even live here.

Satisfied she stood back up and turned to Vernon, "They shouldn't give you any problems, both of them were perfectly healthy this morning, and anything you might need today is in the bag. Dudley likes to throw things lately so I would block off and hide anything you don't want broken. If he throws anything at Harry just take away his toys and sit him facing against the wall for a few minutes. If he does it again set him on your lap and keep him away from anything to entertain himself with for at least an hour. Keep a close eye on Harry as well, he still has trouble walking sometimes, and if you see him pouting it means he needs help with something." She finished with a pointed look when she mentioned Harry.

She was expecting some kind of flinch or wince, something, which is why she was surprised when all she saw was him nodding along. She didn't know if her surprise showed, but she didn't let it for long if it did. "Neither of them have been taking naps lately, so don't try to make them, it'll just upset them, if they lay down and sleep themselves don't let them sleep for longer than two hours, or they'll be cranky and won't want to eat. Their meals are labeled appropriately, don't let dudley trick you, he knows how to make it look like he's eating when he's really spitting it up when you're not looking. I'll be back to pick them up at 11, I went them both asleep when I get here." Petunia nodded to herself, mentally checking that she told him everything.

Vernon hummed, probably in agreement she thought, before he moved to a drawer in his kitchen, grabbing something she couldn't see before moving back to her. He reached out to give her something. Looking at it she could tell it was a key. Before she could question it he said "So you don't have to knock or worry about being late, just let yourself in when you return." He muttered, refusing to meet her eyes. He stepped to the side of the couch with the pram and sat, looking to the boys with a sadness in his eyes Petunia had never seen.

"Very well. If anything happens while i am gone you better be ready to suffer some jail time Vernon." She threatened seriously, a dangerous glare in her eyes. Vernon just nodded, still staring at the boys, his hand resting on the side of the pram.

She didn't feel there was anything left to say, so she walked back to the door and left, sparing a quick last glance at her boys, before shutting the door, and locking it herself to make sure the key he gave her worked.

Satisfied she turned to walk down the hall, stuffing down the feelings that she'd made a horrible mistake. She just had to get to work, and then she would be back.

She wasn't much help at work, unable keep the anger at herself from showing itself. She hoped beyond hope that whatever possessed her wasn't wrong.

* * *

Vernon Dursley was never a very excitable person. Christmas mornings were always calm and affectionate in his family, instead of hyperactive and energetic as usual for every other child. He showed his excitement and happiness in calmer, more sedate ways, and he liked it that way.

He had always thought that was what made him so perfect for his darling Petunia, for every bit of calm he was, she was nothing but energy. He loved the passion she would have when she talked of even the most benign of things. He loved that she never minded when he calmly walked behind her as she happily skipped along to wherever they had to go. He loved that he could sit in his chair quietly with a smile on his face and listen to her as she happily told him all about whatever she'd done that day and she wouldn't think any less of him for being happy to listen to her.

Growing up, other kids had always been frustrated with him for not jumping off the walls with them. It made him feel different that he never needed to run from room to room screaming about Christmas finally was comfortable with it now, but for a long time he'd thought there was actually something wrong with him.

When Petunia showed up at his door with the boys he was floored. He had been fully expecting to never see or hear from her again after their court date in a few weeks. He just stared at her as she told him that this was her only option, that she hadn't suddenly forgiven him.

He distantly heard himself tell her he would watch the boys, stopping her from a rant that would have them both standing there for the next several minutes.

She pushed past him, running over his feet on the way in. He deserved it, he told himself. He wasn't mad, hadn't been in weeks. Hadn't been much of anything but tired in weeks.

He made sure to listen when she started telling him what he would need to know to watch them, he tried to memorize every word. When he saw that she was done he walked to his junk drawer (or at least the drawer he called his junk drawer, there wasn't much in it except for his spare keys and some bread ties he kept for reasons he couldn't understand) and he took his key, giving it to petunia with what little a feeling of hopefulness he could muster, he'd meant to mail this to her at some point, but never had the courage.

Sitting down on his couch he looked at his Dudley for the first time in a year. He was the second most beautiful thing Vernon had ever seen, and seeing him cuddled up to Harry like he would a beloved toy or a sibling sent a wave of something through Vernon. The disgust he felt whenever he used to think of his nephew had disappeared the same day that he had hit him. Now he felt it at himself. Looking at him now all Vernon could see was a young little boy tightly clutching another boy who by all rights was his brother.

Vernon hadn't known how he would react if he was ever faced with Harry again, not once did it ever cross his mind over the past year to blame the child, but he didn't expect the feelings washing over him now.

"mmmbuhh…mmmbbaahahh"

Any parent could tell you. When a baby gets fussy, where strangers on the street might hear nothing but an annoyance, demanding it stop, all the parents hear is "I need you" and it fills them with two simultaneous feelings. An immense pride and happiness that this perfect little thing needs THEM and them alone, and an exponentially growing despair for every second they spend not helping.

When Harry first came into Vernons life, he felt nothing but rage and hatred whenever he got fussy. But as the months went by he started more and more to feel the despair (at the time he completely ignored any happiness that might have maybe been there) it made him angrier and angrier.

Now, watching Harry fuss in front of him for the first time in over a year, all he felt was disgust at himself for the way he had been.

And Vernon picked Harry up. For the first time ever.

And he cried, for the fourth time in his adult life.

* * *

At half past eleven at night Petunia could be found close to sprinting down the hall, cursing herself for letting herself be even a minute late, let alone half an hour.

She'd been scolded three times throughout the day, and she honestly couldn't bring herself to care. She couldn't focus on anything when her boys were on their own with Vernon.

She didn't even bother knocking. She'd had the key in her hand since she left the pub, it was in the lock before she was even fully in front of the door.

She was not prepared for what she saw coming in. She was expecting the boys to both be in the pram with soiled nappies and possibly a sleeping away Vernon. A very dark part of her thought that she might find Harry abandoned in the apartment with Vernon and Dudley long gone. She was not expecting both boys curled up on Vernons chest, wearing the extra clothes she'd packed for them, all three of them passed out on the floor (Vernon was half slumped onto the couch, but the vast portion of his body was on the floor)

Looking at them Petunia couldn't help but see how content the boys looked. Dudley had his whole body wrapped around as much of Vernon as he could, and Harry was curled up with stiff limbs like he always slept. And Vernon… he looked exhausted. Collapsed onto the ground, his chest breathing deeper than she remembered him doing, he looked more tired than she had seen him probably ever.

"Vernon." She said softly, Hoping to rouse him but not the sleeping toddlers.

Vernon lets out a pathetic mumble she can't quite make out and rights himself slightly.

"I'm taking my boys home now Vernon." She tells him. Watching as he grunts in acceptance and struggles to stand and get the boys back in the pram without waking them. 'He's lost weight' she thinks.

'A lot of weight'

She ignores how much she dislikes how she sees him now.

A short few minutes later she's standing in the doorway trying to decide if she should say something.

She decides not to.

She's home 20 minutes later.

The boys didn't stir even once.

* * *

The first time Vernon is allowed back inside his house again is Christmas of that year. Petunia lets him struggle his way in with more than three times his own weight in presents. He doesn't let the smug look of satisfaction on Arabella Figgs face as she stands in the kitchen doorway watching him nervously struggle bother him. He tries his hardest to be careful, watching the boys open his gifts with a sense of nervous happiness that keeps him from settling into any true contentedness.

That day is the best day in his life. Better than when Petunia showed up to demand he watch the kids. Better when she showed up again the next week. Better when he gets a call from his lawyer saying she had asked to cancel their court date. Better even than all 17 of the days he's gotten to watch the boys in these past months combined.

Sitting and watching the boys play with all the toys they've gotten this year, watching Petunia completely ignore him to sit on the ground and play with them. Even the presence of Mrs. Figg can't put a damper on his mood as he sits in his old chair and watches the boys toddle about without a care in the world.

The smile on his face by the time all the presents are opened and the boys are making mountains that they can run into and knock over is wider and more beaming than anything he's had before.

Petunias not saying anything to him. The boys don't seem to even know he's there. Figg sends glares his way every few minutes but it's nothing bothersome to him. By all accounts he might as well not even be there.

And he still loves every second.

And then Harry picks up the toy truck he's latched himself too (it's obvious he's found his favorite) and another toy police car that's sat unbothered for awhile. And he plods his way over to vernons chair, unbothered by the hesitant and almost fearful look spreading on Vernon' face. And he places the car on vernons lap, and when Vernon doesn't get the message he grabs and tugs Vernons leg towards the ground, mumbling impatiently like only a three year old can do.

Vernon gets the message. Sparing a short glance in the direction of the staring Petunia, he slides off of the chair and gingerly takes the car and begins to wheel it along on the ground, slowly getting into whatever kind of rhythm Harry wants him to. Apparently Harry wants to stimulate a car chase, his giant monster truck chasing down the little matchbox police car he gave Vernon.

It doesn't take long for Dudley to want in. Soaring over with his toy jetplane and making believe that he's shooting at Harry's monster truck. Vernon has a teammate, and the tide turns, with Harry now on the run. Vernons heart clenches with something he can't take the time to identify when Petunia joins Harry's team with a toy bulldozer, plowing through toys and jumping off of make believe ramps with the playtime experience that Vernon now hates he doesn't have.

When he collapses onto his own bed that night he's happier than he thinks he's ever been.

He's asleep in seconds.

* * *

The first time he's alone with Petunia again is Valentine's Day. Over the few months since Christmas he's been spending as much time as he's been allowed with them. By the time February had rolled around he'd been showing up after work every day. Halfway through January the first real conversation they shared was about a new fish and chips shop that had opened down the street.

February 14th had him standing on his own doorstep nervously with a bouquet of Petunias favorite flowers, hoping beyond hope she won't slam the door in his face the second she sees him.

She doesn't.

A short time later they are both sitting nervously in that very same fish and chips shop. Neither of them has any idea how to start things. They don't talk about anything specific, they don't say anything important, and when they both rush through their food they're both home playing with the boys in less than an hour.

It's easily the best date Vernons ever been on. Later when he's about to leave Petunia whispers he can stay on the couch if he'd like, and he swells with a sense of relief he never dared believe he'd feel.

It takes another two months for Petunia to let him sleep in their bed again. And another month after that for her to accept him back into some form of embrace, cuddling like they did when they were still kids in a relationship, sneaking around behind her parents back.

It took almost two years. Vernon Dursley finally felt happy again. His wife was happy with him again. He'd found a surprising friend and surrogate grandmother in Arabella Figg. And he had two sons that were none the wiser and living the kind of uncaring happiness only toddlers could.

Two years.

* * *

It came crumbling down in less than two months.

* * *

Vernon Dursley had always found himself lucky to say that he'd never actually been inside of a real hospital. Having a doctor for a mother he'd grown up healthier and more cautious than any other child he'd known. He never got truly sick, other than the occasional cold and one time the flu when he was 13. He never broke any bones or suffered any true bodily harm.

He heard people say they loved hospitals. Loved the clean, methodical nature. Loved the care most doctors and nurses took.

He heard some people say they hated hospitals. Hated the oppressive, sterile nature. Hated the cold, clinical nature most doctors would take.

Vernon couldn't form an opinion either way.

All he could feel was terror. Not just fear, while Vernon was no stranger to fear, that was not what he was feeling now. He felt fear when he was driving between two tractor-trailers on a three lane road. He felt fear when his boss told him he needed to talk to him in that unfeeling tone he only used when someone was truly in trouble. He felt fear when he thought of the way he was when Harry had first come into his life.

What he felt when one Saturday in early July Harry suddenly collapsed in a fit of hysterical laughter and what Vernon was absolutely sure was a seizure? That was not fear. That was Terror.

Vernon could not tell you the time it took him to rush Harry to the hospital, Vernon couldn't even tell you if had been breathing during that time. He came charging into the emergency ward with one aggressively twitching son clutched in his arms, and one terrified son running crying at his feet. Vernon absolutely hated how useless he felt during the time he sat outside the examination room Harry had been rushed off to. He hated even more how terrified Petunia sounded when he finally managed to get ahold of a phone to call her at work. His heart very nearly broke when she came sprinting towards him with tears streaming down her face.

Three hours into waiting they finally got their wits about them and called Arabella to come pick up Dudley and take him home. Three hours after that a nurse with a trolley of food walked by and offered them an early dinner.

Neither of them could eat a thing.

They hadn't been paying attention to any of the people walking by for hours, they hadn't been listening to things that weren't spoken directly to them. All they could muster the energy to do was stare at the door they knew their son to be behind.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was an old man. At just a few years older than a hundred, he'd lived for a long time. In his life he'd seen a lot of things, he'd lived through two different blood wars in the magical world, both of them surrounding people he'd come to care about more than anything. When Gellert Grindelwald rose to power, Albus spent years hiding from reality, because he could never muster the drive to act against Gellert. How do you put a stop to someone you love that much? And Albus had loved him. To the very end Albus broke his own heart putting an end to Gellerts plans of world domination.

And when Dumbledore found a young Tom Riddle a tiny seed was planted. A seed that grew and grew into seeing the boy as the son he never got to raise with the man he never got to marry. And he blocked out every sign that pointed to Tom growing into one of the most cold, calculating, bitter, spiteful, and hate filled men in existence. When Tom Riddle revealed to the world what he really was it broke Albus's heart more than he thought would ever be possible again. And when Tom in his own hubris and in an effort to avoid his own destiny destroyed himself, Albus finally let out the breath he'd been holding since the prophecy was uttered.

Albus Dumbledore was a being of love. He'd known that about himself for decades. He couldn't help forming bonds with even the most absent of acquaintances, and even though he'd lost so many of the people he'd lost the most, he knew the love he was capable of giving to be his greatest feature. What was often his downfall he could admit was his tendency to forget that not every creature on this world was like him.

Which was why he was so happy to see that faith rewarded in young Harry Potters aunt. He could admit that he was hesitant to place Harry with them. But he allowed himself faith, and seeing her settle into the role of another mother to Harry brought warmth to Albus' weary old heart.

When Petunia and Vernon had their falling out, Albus begun to hold a breath once again, hoping beyond hope that they might reconcile, that Harry might grow up with a full and loving family. And when he learned that those two had finally reconciled, and that Vernon was filling a loving fathers role, Albus was happy.

Finding himself reflecting on those things once again, Albus was resolutely ignoring the mountain of paperwork that always appeared on his desk after a wizengamot meeting. Not for the first time lamenting the forces of Bureaucracy. Sometimes he wished he hadn't been the one to bring an end to Gellerts reign, then he might have been able to live and teach in pea-

"ALBUS!" Arabella Figgs frantic face appeared in his floo, screaming his name.

"Arabella what is it? I don't beleive I've ever seen you this scared." Albus replied hoping his words might calm her just a tad. They didn't.

"Albus it's Harry! Something's wrong with him! Vernon and Petunia have been at the hospital all day after Harry had some kind of collapse this morning!" Arabella was frantic and scared, her words coming out in a jumble that took Albus a second to decipher, but his heart sank lower than it's been in years when they registered.

"Where are they Arabella? What hospital?" He shouted, a show of desperation most wouldn't believe him capable of.

"St Peters hospital inChertsey, th-" Albus didn't hear whatever she said next, he had already disappeared with a sharp *CRACK* apparating away.

Appearing in a small alley just down the street from the hospital, Albus just barely had the sense of mind to Transfigured his robes into a muggle suit, before he carried on. Rushing at speeds a man over a hundred years old has no right moving.

He rushed through the halls of the hospital, desperately hoping that this was just a sudden infliction that could pass in a few days, and growing more desperate with every hall he didn't find the Dursleys. Albus knew that he was confusing muggles with every hall he walked past, a wizard of his power and age being capable of emitting a passive aura that work almost like a mundane repelling charm. Compelling them to look away before they got a good enough look at him. He couldn't bring himself to care about them.

Finally coming across the dursleys desperately staring at a door he could feel was hiding a magical being behind, relief washed over him for a half a second before the fear returned once again and he made his way to them, intent on finding out what was happening.

"Excuse me." He said finally, silently also putting up a small silencing ward around the small area the three of them now inhabited, knowing the conversation would lean on the magical.

Both Petunia and Vernon looked up to find easily the oldest man they'd ever seen gazing at them with a soft smile and a silent fearfulness in his eyes.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore, I was the one who left young Harry in your care." He hoped that Petunia might remember him from when he showed up to take young lily to Diagon Alley all those years ago (silently he also lamented once again that he had stopped personally seeing the mundane-born children to the alley)

Petunia looked to her husband for brief moment, before replying in a questioning tone "I remember you, barely, and we certainly recognize the name but… why are you here now?" She sounded highly confused.

With a soft smile Albus took a seat accross from them and continued "When I entrusted young Harry in your care I left in place a number of systems to monitor his health, hoping to ensure he would grow up safe. When I learned of his being brought here I rushed to learn the situation, hoping I might be of some use."

Both of them were silent, a gentle mind probe could tell him they had many a question they wanted to ask, but they both agreed on one more than any other. "Do you know what's happening to our Harry?" Vernon whispered, internally cursing how scared he sounded.

"Unfortunately I am just as unsure as you are at the moment. But I assure you everything possible will be done for him. Whether they be Mundane or Magical efforts." Albus replied quietly, his own frustration at the current situation showing through.

Nothing was said after that. Petunia and Vernon both too tired and scared, and Albus more than willing to sit quietly, feeling no need for further explanation.

It was close to another three hours, nine hours after Vernon had rushed in here, when the door finally opened to let an exhausted looking doctor into the hall. Both parents were on their feet before the door was even fully open, and Albus was less than a second behind them.

"You would be the family I presume?" The Doctor asked tiredly, rubbing his temples and his portly stomach heaving deeply.

"Is our son okay?" Both the Dursleys asked, letting the desperation through and both trying to peer around the doctor into the room.

"Every part of me wants to say 'yes, your son is fine.' But that would be a lie. Please come in, this is not a conversation for the hallway." Albus had seen that look in the doctors eye and heard that tone in his voice more times than he cared to count in his own school mediwitch and in healers he'd worked with during the wars. It was official. Albus was scared.

Both of the Dursleys rushed into the room, zeroing in on the sleeping young boy on the bed, and immediately taking the seats surrounding him. Albus hurried in behind them, vaguely registering the soft click of the door closing behind the four of them. Albus's eyes were locked on young Harry, desperation flooding his every pore.

When everyone was seated, Albus quickly took a moment to ask "Might I ask your name Doctor?"

"You may call me Dr. Edwards, and you are?"

"My name is Albus." Dumbledore replied, turning to the Dursleys, letting them take the lead.

"What is happening to our son?" Petunia whispered, tears in her eyes.

Dr. Edwards sighed the kind of tired, saddened sigh that only a doctor could, before replying "Are you aware of what the phrase 'Genetic Disorder' means?" He asked them. When there was no reply, he continued "It's a term that refers to a disease or deficiency that a person doesn't catch later in life, but is instead born with it. The disorder affecting your son is a deficiency that's been a part of him since the day he was born." He paused for a second, swallowing the think lump that formed in his throats at the horror on all three faces staring at him "Your son is suffering from a condition called Niemann-Pick, specifically type C. It's a dysfunction in the body's ability to transport cholesterol and a few other key substances, causing them to build up in and damage affected tissues, most typically… the brain." Dr. Edwards stopped at that, hoping for some questions or something. Feeling entirely too helpless watching the growing despair on their faces. This was always the part of his job he hated the most.

Petunia was openly weeping at this point, and Vernon could be seen visibly struggling with what words to ask.

Albus could feel his age and weariness weighing him down like never before as he asked "What can be done? There must be something?" He hadn't sounded so desperate since the last time he'd truly spoken to Gellert.

"The thing to remember here is that it's not like a virus or a cancer. It's not a disease that can be flushed or cut out of his system, what's happening to him is written on his very genes. As far as his body is concerned it's just doing what it's supposed to be doing."

"So there's nothing?! There's nothing you can do for him?" Petunia was on the verge of hysterics.

Dr. Edwards grimaced "Well, there is a treatment, bu-"

"Well than what are you waiting for!?" Petunia screamed, cutting off Dr Edwards

"The problem is, your son doesn't have the time to finish the treatment. It's an intense, difficult process that takes a minimum of a year and your son just… doesn't have that long." Dr Edwards hated how hard he could see they were taking this news.

"How long would you say he has Doctor?" Vernon whispered staring forward with an empty look in his eyes that The good doctor Edwards had seen far too many times in his short life.

"At best? A few months." That was the last thing Petunia heard that day. At those words the floodgates were opened and her screaming and crying could be heard by the entire floor. Vernon collapsed in his chair and appeared to the world a broken man. And Albus for the first time truly let his age shine through. He was tired. He wanted to be with his Husband, he wanted to live in a world where he didn't have to watch another little boy die for nothing. And he knew there was nothing magic could do. Magic was a beautiful, wondrous thing that could save people from all sorts of things. But it couldn't rewrite people on such a level. Magicals had known about Genes for decades longer than Mundanes had, and it was just a fact. Transfiguration could change a person into something else entirely, but eventually that magic has to wear off, and those things would still be there.

"I'll… see myself out. I'm so, so sorry." Dr Edwards said after a few minutes of relative silence. He'd learned a long time ago a strangers presence in these moments would only hurt, and he couldn't listen to Petunia's wails. He returned to his office and after a long drag from the scotch he'd saved for moments like this, he opened his files and got back to work.

Hoping for some kind of miracle.

He wasn't the only one.

* * *

Just under a month later, Albus Dumbledore appeared at their doorstep. After that night the Dursleys had just, shut down. Petunia shakenly told all her employers what was happening, that she needed every second she could get. They gave it to her. Vernon was taking half days at Grunnings, and no one would talk to him for fear that they take time from him. Time was all that either of them wanted. Albus was choosing to ignore the fact that he hadn't been getting much of any work done either, that same stack of paperwork sitting completely undisturbed on his desk.

July 31st brought a heavy burden on his heart. It was Harry's 4th birthday, and set to be his last. Albus had spent all that month preparing, preparing to tell the wizarding world that their hero was gone.

He was told by Arabella that she had come clean about her placement there, and they had asked if he would like to join them for a small celebration of Harry's last birthday. He was more than happy to agree.

Knocking on the door had him let inside and sitting on a small loveseat, watching both of the boys as they toddled about, not a single, fighting the clenching he felt in his chest when he saw the things in Harry he now knew to be signs of his condition.

Lunch was a sedate affair, and conversation was minimal, the children blissfully unaware of the atmosphere that had settled on the adults in the room. Watching the careless play.

At some point Petunia had looked to Albus, stuttering while she obviously had trouble trying to voice a question. Albus shook his head with more sadness in his eyes than he thought he had left in him.

When Albus brought out his wand, getting the attention of the boys, he had an idea, and within no time was happily showing off all of the magic that he could think to be safe in a small Mundane living room. Toy dinosaurs came alive, toy cowboys fought valiant fights against the toy astronauts, trains, planes and cars sped around the room like they would if their were their real counterparts, and sparks of color and light flitted through the air like pixies flitting through the forest. And the boys loved every second.

Laughing and screaming like wild little animals, they delighted in things that previously only happened in their imagination. Arabella smiled with eyes full of longing, remembering a time when these things were everyday occurrence in her life. Petunia stifled tears, thinking she might have been a part of this with her sister had things been different. And Albus looked on practically giddy, having long since forgotten what it was like to show children the wonders of what magic could well and truly do.

Vernon though, this was different for him. He'd always seen magic in his mind being different, less natural looking and more… unnatural? He didn't know what word to describe what exactly he imagined, but it wasn't this. In his mind he didn't see it feeling so real, like it was something that was supposed to be there. It was the last thing that Vernon needed to see for his decision to be made. He still wasn't a fan of the community and it's people, but magic… that was something he could support. If this is what Harry was going to be learning, instead of summoning demons and turning children into toads like a dark part of him had been imagining, then he could be more than happy to support it.

"Mr Dumbledore w-" Vernon started before getting cut off "Please, just Albus." He stated warmly, settling deeper into his seat, happily taking this rare chance to let his old bones relax.

"Albus" Vernon started again, testing the name on his tongue "Petunia and I have been talking and… we've come to a decision about Harry, and we thought you might like to know." Vernon said, looking in Petunias direction before he pulled a small folder from the crease between the cushion and arm of his chair, and pulling a sheet of paper from it. He looked it over one last time before handing it to Albus.

His breath hitched the second he saw what it said. And tears sprang to his eyes, for the first time in decades, tears of happiness.

Mundane adoption papers. Signed to a mister Harry James Potter-Dursley.

"We… we wanted it to be official… wanted him to really be ours when he's gone." Petunia was choking on her words, she'd been crying more than ever since they'd learned.

"I think that is a wonderful idea Petunia, Vernon." Albus said, looking at both of them with more pride and happiness than he'd ever felt.

Rrrrrrriiinnggg...Rrrrrrriiinnggg...Rrrrrrriiinnggg

The phone was ringing.

Rrrrrrriiinnggg...Rrrrrrriiinnggg...Rrrrrrriiinnggg

None of the adults in the room who had any idea what a phone was had any intention of answering it.

Rrrrrrriiinnggg...Rrrrrrriiinnggg...Rrrrrrriiinnggg

Albus had heard of phones before, but being out of his depth here had not real idea whether it was acceptable to answer on their behalf, or to let them handle it.

*click*

And it was done.

"Sorry about that Albu-"

Beeep~ "Mr and Mrs Dursley, this is Dr Edwards. I've been doing some research and I found something that I think you should know. There's a few cases documented of a very experimental, very dangerous treatment being used on children with your sons condition that didn't have enough time for the full recommended treatment. There's only one documented case of a child surviving, and only one doctor in the world who's willing to risk it, but I felt it was my duty to tell you. I reached out to him and he's in London for the next few weeks, and he said he'd be willing to meet with you. So just give me a call back and we can talk about whether you'd like me to set a meeting."

At no time in human history had four separate adults moved in the same direction faster than they did at that moment.

* * *

Two Dursleys, one Figg, and one Dumbledore all sat around the Dining room table of number 4 Privet Drive, all with a nervous hopefulness about them that none had felt before.

They were waiting for someone to arrive. A Dr. Isaac Howard. Someone they were told might be the only hope for the little boy sleeping in the bedroom just above their heads.

At half past nine, on August 4th, 1984. A soft knock was heard at the door. And Vernon Dursley slowly made his way over, unlocking the locks one by one. And opened the door.

Standing on the other side was the strangest looking man he'd ever laid eyes upon. He wasn't strange in that he was malformed in the face, Vernon could admit to himself he was actually quite young and handsome. He wasn't too short or too tall, though he did tower a bit over Vernons short stature. He looked to be a healthy weight and he wore fine looking clothes. It was his skin. It was green. Not a dark evergreen or rich earthy green, a pale, muted green like the color of chewed mint gum. In some lightings Vernon thought one might even be forgiven for thinking he were incredibly pale. Stranger still on both sides of his neck were three scars, in a triangular pattern to each other, as if someone had punctured all the way through.

"Hi there, you must be mister Dursley." Dr. Howard said, offering his hand for a shake. Looking at it for the briefest of moments before he returned the gesture Vernon saw a the same pattern of scars on his wrist as well.

"Hello, and you must be Dr Howard." Vernon greeted, trying to sound friendly through the nerves they'd been feeling. "Please come in." Vernon stepped aside, gesturing stiffly with his arm in a welcoming gesture.

Vernon followed Dr Howard as he walked into the house, making his way towards the table of people he could see just across the way from the door.

"Dr Howard this is my wife Petunia" he gestured to her, watching her get up to shake his hand "Arabella Figg, a close friend of the family" stopping once again "and Albus Dumbledore, another old family friends and a very close friend to our son's birth parents." As Dr Howard shook the last hand offered and sat down at the only seat on one side of the table, all four of the others moved to face it, Vernon shuffled to his own seat.

"I'm assuming Harry, the one Dr Edwards told me about, is asleep?" Dr Howard finally said a minute or two later, breaking the ice.

"Yes, with this meeting so late we assumed that it wasn't necessary to keep him up." Petunia stated, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Understandable. So, you had some questions?"

"Yes. When Dr Edwards told us that there was a chance, that you might be able to save our son, and we… we had to jump at the opportunity to meet you because w-"

"I'm going to cut you off there Mrs Dursley, cause I can recognize the beginnings of a nice ramble. I understand your urgency to jump at this opportunity, and I'm more than willing to do everything I can to help." Dr Howard had been in this situation before, they could tell.

"I understand situations such as this can be quite costly, but we are all more than willing to pay whatever needed for your time." Albus spoke, hoping this young mans pleasantness so far would continue.

At that Dr Howard's brows rose in shock "I believe there might have been a miscommunication. I'm not going to charge you anything for this." He stated, surprise and the faintest bit of disgust could be heard in his voice "This treatment… it's not a guarantee. Dr Edwards told you that you had a few more months with your son?" He paused seeing them nod before he continues. "This treatment isnt going to work like you are thinking. If it works, your boy gets to live his life happy and healthy. But if it doesn't, which as much as I hate to say it is the most common outcome, you don't get to come back home and wait for another possible miracle to come along, or even wait for Harry to pass peacefully, or not. Either this works, or… it doesn't." He finished, making eye contact, hoping they get the message in his words.

They do.

It's Arabella that finally speaks up again minutes later. "So, either Harry is saved, and will live a full life. Or, he's gone, months before the doctor told us we should expect him to be?"

A grimace and a faint nod is the only answer she gets, and the family sits in silence.

Petunia hopefully asks "But, it's worked before?"

"Once."

That hits them hard. "How many -" "63." Vernon started, only to be cut off by Dr Howard, already knowing what the question would be.

He lets them sit for a while. Waiting for them to process the information. Patiently watching.

"What have you recommended in the past? When other parents came to you?" Petunia asked quietly, hoping for something to help her here.

Dr Howard thought for a moment, "I've done this, more times than I really wish, and had to watch families fall into grief when things fell apart, and the treatment failed. But I've also watched families collapse when they chose to savor what little time they had left, never getting a real goodbye with their children, and always wondering that maybe their's would have been the second if they had taken the chance. My advice? It will take me about two weeks to set up the procedure, in that time, make your peace as best you can, say goodbye. And pray as hard as you can in whatever higher power you believe in that your boy will be healthy. And I'll promise to do everything I possibly can to bring him back." He made eye contact with all four of them as he finished.

It took some more time for any of them to speak again. Vernon and Petunia seemed to be having a conversation through thoughts and eyes alone, Arabella felt it wasn't her place to speak for this decision, and Albus knew that it was their call. He thought he knew the decision he would make, but a part of him knew he couldn't really.

Finally Vernon spoke up. "If we say our goodbyes, how long will it take to know? How long will the treatment take?" He asked, knowing their minds were made up on this.

"The treatment takes two weeks, if there's any complications and he doesn't make it, the shortest you might be waiting would be a few days."

"And will we be able to see him in that time? Talk to you?"

"No."

The Dursleys were scared, but they'd made up their minds.

"You'll have everything ready two weeks from now?"

* * *

Petunia Dursley was never a very fearful woman. A few dates had tried to take her to horror movies, and been severely disappointed when they ended up more scared than she did. She'd had her moments before, but for the most parts it was her other emotions that came it in droves, never fear. For close to two months she'd been terrified. Her son collapsed, and she was told that he was dying. Then she was given simultaneous hope and further terror, when she chose a Hail Mary option to save him, or cut his life short by months, a hot ball of leaden terror settled in her stomach and never left.

Two weeks later she and Vernon were saying a tearful goodbye to a confused Harry in front of a massive tent set up on the edge of the woods and the park, just down the street from their home.

And they stayed at home, for two weeks, no knowledge of anything happening. Not knowing if they were ever going to see their boy again. She'd spent more time fighting off tears in Vernons arms those weeks than she'd thought was truly possible for her. She said more prayers than she'd ever made in her life. She'd never been a very religious woman. Believing in god, but not buying that you had to devotely go to church every week and pray multiple times a day to be happy.

Arabella had taken over watching Dudley after the first time Dudley asked for Harry, she couldn't take it. She had no idea how she was going to tell him that his brother was gone. Albus came around a few times the first week, trying in vain to hide his own fear. The second week he was there every day.

And he stood right next to them as they waited outside the tent two when the time was up. Dr Howard had told them to expect him done by noon, but he was late. It was close to one in the afternoon and they'd heard absolutely nothing. The tent, which Albus remembers noting was much closer to a small house or cabin, was still as silent as it'd been when petunia'd walked by almost every day hoping to maybe hear or see something.

At a little after one, the door finally opened. And out stepped a very tired, very haggard looking Isaac Howard, bags under his eyes, a filthy t shirt covering his chest, and wearing cut off pants, revealing the same triangle pattern of scars as on his neck and wrists on his ankles as well.

"Well?" Petunia whispered behind clasped hands.

Dr Howard looked down and let out an exhausted sigh.

All three hearts sank in an instant.

"Hhahh… you've got a strong boy there Mr and Mrs Dursley. He'll be weak for a little while, but he should grow up healthier than any other kid in this neighborhood." He said finally, moving back towards the door to hold it open for them.

It took only the briefest of moments for Petunia Vernon and Albus to register those words, before Albus was on his hands and knees, openly weeping with relief, and Vernon and Petunia were through the door, rushing to follow him to their son.

Coming to a room in the back, Petunia didn't falter rushing to embrace him, clutching him like a lifeline. Vernon was at her side, staring down at them with tears in his eyes. Looking at Harry now something struck him. Harry had always had the nasty red scar on his forehead, but that was it. Looking at him now Vernon could see several fresh looking if partially healed marks on his neck wrist and ankles. Triangle patterns of small circles that looked deep. And his skin was green. A slightly darker green than the skin of the man standing in the doorway.

"My grandpa was one of the best doctors in Minnesota. When my parents passed shortly after I was born, he took me in. And he raised me as his own. And then during a routine checkup, he found something in me. Niemann-pick disease, type C. He dedicated his life to finding some sort of treatment. And five years later he found one. A full treatment that over a years continuous work could completely rewrite the genetic makeup of anyone affected. But it was too late for me. I had already started to show symptoms, and he knew I would never get that long. So he went over all his notes, all his research and all his findings and he came up with a solution, a desperate, insane solution that might just possibly work. Squeezing all that work, a years worth of gene therapy into as short a time as he possibly could, without instantly sentencing me to death. Two weeks later I was cured, and I've lived the rest of my life trying as hard as I can to be as great as my grandpa was." Dr Howard stood in the doorway, telling his story. He knew they'd understand why Harry came out of this looking like he did. But he felt they were owed an explanation.

For the longest time the only sound in the room was the beeping of the monitor attached to Harry.

Vernon looked to Harry. It was impossible to keep the smile off his face as he looked at his son, his healthy, safe son.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors notes: first and foremost while I don't feel it's necessary I forgot last chapter to make clear that I don't own Harry Potter. Obviously. The series would be very different with me writing it.**

 **Second I felt it necessary to make clear a few things. Mostly just the most major changes. Biggest thing you might be confused about is that in this world the word 'muggle' is a serious insult, and most people in Magical Britain use the word 'Mundane' to describe non magical people. Most of you could probably guess that but I felt it necessary to make that clear. Also Hogwarts starts at 14, instead of 11. And honestly that's pretty much entirely because I'm a lot more comfortable writing late teens clumsily fumbling around teenage romance than I am early and mid teens. Romance basically won't be a factor till fourth year and by that point the important chapters will be 16, 17, and 20 instead of 13, 14 and 17. It's entirely because I am not comfortable writing beginning romance between characters who are still at an age I consider to still be children.**

 **Third it's important to realize Harry and his family are the only changes that have been made to the world. Barring one exception I'll get to every other character will be starting out exactly as I see them in canon. Just about every character will end up very different from their canon alternative by the end, but for some of them those changes will be rather slow. Ron fans I'm sorry but I genuinely do not like Ron, especially not movie Ron. He'll get better just like everyone else, I like happy endings, it'll just be slow going for a lot of them. Ron as well as just about every other important character that's not a villain will eventually be at a state where if nothing else I can be happy with them. If you guys aren't satisfied well I'm sorry, that's just how I like my stories to go.**

 **The main idea for this story was, "what would the story have ended up like if Harry had an actually happy childhood, and everything else was practically the same. How would that affect the events of the series."**

 **Fourth, up until fourth year the story is going to be relatively unchanged, and I'll be telling the first three books/movies in 2-4 chapters each. (Note. When I say unchanged that does not mean that there won't be any differences, it just means that it takes time for the biggest changes to begin to set in, i'm not gonna force myself to write in detail every benign interaction from the entire series, I'm going to write pretty similar to how the story has gone in these first two chapters, telling the most important parts and lightly glazing over the less important ones, not bothering at all to tell the unimportant details beyond maybe a brief mention) Obviously you can tell I write long chapters, and you can expect that to stay the same. I'm really excited for fourth year though. Goblet of fire is where all of the ideas I have for changes to the story that I'm most excited about (besides the ones that have already been shown) kick in.**

 **Also quick side note I just bought a copy of the illustrated version of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (also in this world it will be Philosopher's stone like it was originally intended) and holy hell it is amazing. I absolutely love the imagination shown in the depictions of Rowling's writings and it makes for an even better reading experience than reading the books normally does. Seriously if you have forty dollars laying around (or 120 if you want the box set of all three of the ones they've made so far) I cannot recommend enough picking these up. Any true fan of Harry Potter would enjoy themselves looking at these illustrations.**

 **I've got more things I want to say but for the most part that's about all I feel is necessary at this point. Feel free to review or pm me any questions, I'll answer any that aren't direct spoilers. And to all the people who've reviewed followed and favorited so far thank you for enjoying the first chapter, and I hope you continue to enjoy it as I continue.**

* * *

Life for a four year old was hard! Harry was four years old and he had to learn how to walk again. He already learned how to walk!

He couldn't pick up toys or play with Dudley. He couldn't follow mummy or Daddy up the stairs. Mamma Abella, "Too hard!" He would yell at her full name, just made him sit in her lap all the time. And the few times Pappa Alby showed up he would always do the pop thing and disappear before Harry could remember to ask him how to do it!

And people were mean to him! Everywhere he went people would look at his cool green skin and talk too quiet for him to hear. People shouldn't be allowed to do that! Talking should be loud enough for everyone to hear!

Ever since he'd gotten his cool skin like doctor Issac it was like he couldn't do anything and he hated it! He just wanted to play and run but his legs wouldn't hold him up. Every day it got Easier but Harry wanted it easier now Darnit!

If he kept going at this rate he'd been older than Pappa Alby when he could finally walk again!

* * *

Life for a four year old was amazing! He'd been helping mummy "decate" forever, and the house looked great! Harry didn't know what "hoj poj" meant but if his daddy used it when talking about his "decations" then it must be a good thing.

It seemed like every day new presents showed up under the "critma" tree and he couldn't open any of them! Sometimes people showed up at the door and handed his parents more, or sometimes his parents walked down the stupid stairs he still couldn't get up on his own with more presents.

But then last night mamma Abella made biscuits and they made him go to bed early. And when he woke up this morning everyone kept giving him presents! And he got to open them! Finally!

He got new books, which he put in front of mamma Abella so she could read them to him. He got new clothes, which he threw away from him, he didn't want new clothes! He already had enough clothes to wear! He got candies that he tried to hide from his parents. And he got new toys! Toys were his favorite things he had. And now that he could finally play with Dudley again he needed as many as he could get!

He got cars and planes and a sword and more dinosaurs and zoo animals and…

He got so much stuff that he didn't even know how to count it all. There were toys he'd never even seen before!

"Pappa Alby!" Harry loved when Pappa Alby came, and he had more presents!

"Hello Harry, how have you been?" Harry didn't answer him, instead going straight for the presents in his hands.

"What I get? What I get?" Harry said, trying to pull himself up on Albus' long clothes. It frustrated Harry even more when Alby just laughed at him.

"Calm down Harry, these are not both for you." Alby said, kneeling down slightly to hand Harry the bright red and gold colored present, before moving towards Dudley to hand him his.

Harry didn't see that though. He was already tearing into the wrapping paper, tossing it aside to get to the present underneath.

"Is a book!" Harry shouted, fascinated by the moving drawings on the cover. He couldn't read yet, but he could get someone to read for him.

Alby laughed again "That, Harry, is my personal copy of my favorite story book from when I was your age. The tales of Beedle the Bard." He said from his seat on the couch.

Not looking away from he pictures Harry waddled his way over to Alby, pulled himself onto his lap and shoved the book into his chest. "Read!" Harry shouts, impatiently waiting until Alby laughs at him again and opens the book to the first story.

* * *

Harry loved the zoo!

For Dudleys 5th birthday (why does he get to be 5 first?!) the whole family went to the zoo, and not even mummy yelling at him to stop running ahead could spoil his mood. Why would he stop running when he finally could again? It had taken him FOREVER to be able to walk without falling again! He wanted to run everywhere he went!

And run he did. He ran to every animal. Lions, tigers, bears, oh my! The bears were his third favorite, the hippos in the big pond were his second, but by far his first were the snakes!

The reptile house was in the back of the zoo, so they had to get to that one last. But they were so cool! The lizards were really cool too, but the snakes could talk! And they were all so nice too. They would all call him things like "sssspeaker" or "little massster" and they would talk about what it was like when they still lived in the wild and got to slither up trees and eat whole mice and big spiders. (Harry loves spiders too, he asked them if they wouldn't eat spiders anymore, which they agreed to)

Harry met a really nice lady snake that was probably 20 times as long as him! And she made really funny jokes about being able to escape by keeping all the other snakes in her belly so they'd all be able to escape together. And she even offered Harry a place with them! She said that she could probably squeeze him into her belly too if she tried. Harry wished he could, but his mummy would never let him bring home so many snakes. She didn't like snakes.

But the best snake he met by far was a snake in a glass box big enough to hold him. It had really smooth bright green scales and it was easily twice as long as him. And it talked closer to a human than any of the others. The others talked in short sentences with small words like him, but this one talked to him like Pappa Alby did, long words that it would explain when Harry didn't understand and soft voice that didn't catch on the s's like all the others.

Harry tried to convince one of the nice people at the zoo if he could have that one. He even tried to cry and begged his daddy to help him get It, but they said it was too dangerous.

Harry didn't know what "most venomous snake in the world" meant but he knew that shouldn't be any reason why he couldn't have it!

When they stopped at the gift shop Harry begged for a stuffed snake that looked exactly like his green one! It did not take him long to convince them to get it.

It wasn't his green snake, but it would do until Harry was old enough to get one himself.

* * *

Harry liked when they got to go to the park. Not cause he liked playing football with Dudley, or playing on the bars or slides. He liked the park because he liked the trees!

He didn't like climbing trees. He didn't like playing swords with the sticks, he had swords to play swords with. He didn't like to run around them as fast as he could.

He liked to look at them.

When he looked at the trees he saw the colors. He saw the colors all over the place, in the trees, in some animals, in a bunch of the things at home (especially his stuff) and he saw the colors sometimes in people. Not all of them, but every now and then he'd see someone with the colors.

He couldn't always see them, but when he looked hard enough, when he REALLY wanted to see them, he could see them swirling around, slowly and happily.

The trees always had colors though. Some trees were yellow and they would move around all fast and change directions more than he could count. If Harry could touch them he thought he might cut his hands on the yellow ones.

A lot of the trees were green, flowing in both circles and sharp turns. The green ones had the biggest colors too, reaching up higher in the sky than Harry thought was possible sometimes, and they swirled together so tight it was hard to tell where one path ended and another began.

The blue ones were all loops and circles. It made him feel calm just looking at them. It looked a lot like someone was pouring water through the trees. It would never stop, and Harry thought he might be happy to never stop watching them.

He didn't like the red, purple, and orange ones. The purple and orange ones had the circles and loops of the blues and the sharp turns and points of the yellows, but it was the red parts he really didn't like.

They didn't flow or churn, they didn't move. They didn't look like they were there. Just a bunch of red dots all throughout. The purples were lots and lots of circles and ovals, they moved a little bit but only slightly. And the oranges were lots of triangles and squares, and they moved but Harry didn't like watching them move, it felt weird watching them move like they were attacking each other.

When Harry watched animals and people, the colors looked like a rainbow, moving and flowing, no color stayed in place for very long, and it hurt Harry's eyes watching after awhile. He just liked to watch the trees and plants. They were always just one color, and even the red ones he could watch all day.

The only person he liked to watch was Pappa Alby. Pappa Alby was always so colorful, and the colors would move around and change so much that he would look almost white. But then sometimes his color would settle into a dark green that Harry thought looked really blue too. Harry knew green was just blue and yellow put together. He guessed someone must have just put too much blue in Alby's green colors.

Harry had once asked why mummy didn't have any colors, or why Dudley or Daddy or Abella didn't have them either. She didn't answer for a little bit, asked Harry if he would explain what he meant when he asked about the colors, and then just told him he would understand when he was older. He didn't want to understand when he was older he wanted to understand now!

"Being five sucks!" He would say, because no one wanted to tell him anything. What was the point of his birthday last week if he still can't get answers when he asked for them!

Harry decided he didn't want to ask about them anymore. If they couldn't see them then the colors must just be for him.

That made him feel a little better. They would be his colors.

* * *

"Do you have your crayons?"

"Yes mum!"

"Your notebooks?"

"Yesssss!"

"Your-" "MUUUMMM!" Harry and Dudley shouted together. Mummy had kept them in the doorway making sure they had everything for the millionth time and the bus was already here! Their first day of school was today and she was gonna make them late!

"Okay okay get off you two!" She finally said, pushing them towards the bus and watching them sprint on.

Vernon walked up besides her to watch them get in the bus for the first time.

"You're off too then luv?" She asked, craning her neck to look up at him.

"I'll be home early, i've got to be here after the first day." He said, grinning down at her.

Mid afternoon saw both elder Dursleys waiting to hear all about their boys first day! Shortly after they'd both settled down after Vernon had gotten home, the door was flung open and a green blur flew through the room to the backdoor. A couple seconds later Dudley came stomping in, looking around angrily for something.

"What's wrong Dudley? Why was Harry running?" Petunia asked worriedly, sliding onto the floor to look him in the eye.

"All the other kids were mean to him all day! And Ms teacher wouldn't do anything!" Dudley shouted, burning with a five year olds righteous fury.

"What?!" Petunia and Vernon shouted at once, both of them springing to their feet to run out to the back yard.

Three Dursleys came running out into the backyard of Number 4 Privet Drive, immediately turning to the sound of quiet sniffling coming from behind the large oak tree in the corner.

"Harry sweety what's wrong?" Petunia asked, sitting down next to Harry, trying to pull him into a hug, but he'd curled up into a ball under his sweater.

"They made fun of my green skin! And my scars and they said I looked stupid and weird and ugly. And no one wanted to sit with me at lunch, and teacher kept singling me out whenever she asked questions" they heard him whimper. He'd been crying, they could all tell.

At hearing even the teacher was singling him out? Vernon wasn't just angry, he was downright murderous. Sounds like that school needed a talking to.

"Harry baby they're just kids, they're just jealous their skin isn't as cool like yours." Petunia tried to soothe him, rubbing his back in a way she knew comforted him.

"But Susie Geller called me a freak!" Harry shouted, his balled up form shaking.

"Harry you are not a freak! You know what you tell them when they make fun of your skin?" Vernon said firmly, waiting for the confirmation from him.

"What?" That was easily the most pitiful sound any of them had ever heard.

"You tell them you got your skin and scars as a sign of how strong you are! You tell them you went through and survived something none of them ever could! You tell them that they wish they had skin as cool as yours!" Vernon was firm, looking directly at Harry like he knew Harry liked, Harry hated it when people talking to him didn't look at him, and he spoke with just a hint of his anger letting through.

"It's cool?" Harry sounded so hopeful it lit a fire under all of them.

"Are you kidding? Your skin is so awesome! And green is obviously the best color!" Petunia said putting as much enthusiasm as she could into it.

"I wish I could have green skin!" Dudley shouted, fists to the air and an angry look on his face.

"Your skin is something that makes you so much cooler than you already are, which shouldn't even be possible." Vernon stated with finality, brooking no argument.

When Harry looked up with a watery smile on his little green face, everyone matched it.

* * *

"This is the coolest thing I've ever seen." Two six year old boys said, staring at the Telly.

"So you boys like Star Trek huh?" Vernon chuckled, not regretting in the slightest turning it to this when he heard there was a marathon.

"Yeah" both boys said at once. It was only the first episode, and already both boys were so enraptured, if they could even look away neither of them would ever want to.

"Well there's 80 episodes to get through, and it doesn't look you guys plan on stopping any time soon. I'll make you some popcorn." Vernon chuckled once again, walking to the kitchen.

Vernon could remember seeing a box VHS set at the store not too long ago, maybe it might be good to see about getting them.

* * *

"Goooallll!" Vernon and Petunia shouted together, watching Harry score. It was the first game of the season, and Vernon couldn't have been prouder when both his boys came to him asking to play football. He had them on the team for practice the very next day.

When Dudley came home cheering about being made Goalie, it was the proudest moment in his life. He always knew Dudley would be great at it, and watching him practice, and now today in the game, he was blocking balls like it was his purpose in life.

And when Harry came home telling him he'd been made Center Forward, he practically had a heart attack he was so surprised and happy. And he was a natural! In practice he practically flew across the field, dominating any play the coach had him run. But in a game? Vernon had never seen any game come out 10-0 before half time, especially not a little league game. Harry was all over, seeming to know where the ball would go ten steps ahead of any other player.

With Dudley acting an immovable object, nothing getting past, and Harry an unstoppable force, scoring like a football demon, no other kid stood a chance. If this was a professional team, Vernon would think they had the championship in the bag.

A short time later, four Dursleys and a Figg were seen marching back to the car, both kids held aloft on Vernons shoulders trumpeting their dominating victory to the wind. Vernon knew that they were just kids, but a 22-0 victory was practically unheard of. Vernon couldn't wait to see this trend continue.

"D'we do good Dad?" Dudley asked, a glowing smile on his face looking down at Vernon. Vernon matched the smile beam for beam.

"You did fantastic!"

* * *

"Kirk!"

"Picard!"

"Kirk!"

"Picard!"

"KIRK!"

"PICARD!"

Vernon and Petunia couldn't help laughing at the scene in front of them. Two boys screaming at each other in front of the Telly.

"Captain Kirk is so much better than stinky old Picard!" Dudley shouted, shoving Harry back.

"Jean-Luke Picard is so much better than Kirk I think I might fall asleep if I have to watch another episode with him again!" Harry shouted back, pointing at the shelf completely packed with VHS all labeled with Star Trek episode numbers.

"You take that back!" Dudley shouted back, throwing his 7 year old weight at his brother, starting the wrestling match of the ages.

When Vernon came home one day to tell his boys that Star Trek was starting a new show with new characters and a new captain, they were both so excited the entire street must have gone deaf at their cheering. They were both sat in front of the television watching in awe as the first episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation played for the very first time.

Several episodes and just over a month later, Harry was loudly proclaiming to the world how awesome he thought Captain Picard was, claiming his new favorite. Dudley obviously took offense to that, saying defiantly that Kirk was his favorite.

And thus the age old argument was begun.

"Kirk is awesome! He can fight off aliens like no one else and he always defends his crew!" Dudley shouted, straddling Harry and shaking his shoulders.

"Picard is so cool and calm, he's better than fighting and insults, and he doesn't need to defend his crew! He knows they can fight for themselves!" Harry screamed reversing their position and getting himself on top.

This went on for awhile, Dudley screaming to the world that Kirk was better, while Harry proudly stood his ground that Picard was.

When it was finally time for supper, Petunia came in strong like only a mother of two boys can, breaking them up and pulling them pouting to the table.

"Now you two need to calm down, they're just characters and you're brothers!" Petunia firmed, laying down the law.

"I don't have a brother!" Dudley shouted "Good, cause I don't want a brother like you!" Harry shouted back, before both of them harrumphed and turned away from each other.

"If you two are going to be like that, then you can go straight to bed!" Petunia stated, watching them both stand up and shoot to their shared room in righteous fury.

"Fine!" Two angry boys shouted at once before there was the sound of a slamming door.

Both Harry and Dudley glared each other down, before both of them stomped to their beds and burrowed under the covers, both of their backs turned to each other.

A little while later two quiet sniffles could be heard in a dark bedroom. Two seperate mounds of pillows and blankets quivering softly.

It wasn't much longer before small feet could be heard softly padding across the room, before crawling Into the second bed and hugging the other to him like a lifeline.

When Petunia came to check on them shortly before midnight, a soft smile settled on her face seeing them snuggled together in Harry's bed.

* * *

Shortly before summer of 1989, Harry and Dudley could both be found reading in the den of Number 4 Privet Drive.

Harry's mind was elsewhere though. For a little over a month now he'd been thinking non stop about his mum. And about his colors.

For as long as he could remember he could never see any colors in his family. Except Pappa Albus, but he was different. Mum said he was a 'Wizard' and that he could use magic. Harry still remembered when they'd told him that he too was a wizard. That one day he'd get to go to a special school and use 'magic' and he'd get to be just like Pappa Albus.

But about a month ago Harry started seeing his colors in Mum. Not all throughout her though, not like in Pappa Albus. They were just in her tummy. And they were a perfect rainbow, a constant swirl that never stayed one color for even a second.

Harry had no idea what this could mean. And he didn't ask because he liked to keep his colors to himself, and no one remembered him asking about them years ago. He hoped it wasn't bad, he didn't think he could take it if his Mum got hurt. It's hard for an eight year old to imagine that their parents might not being around.

Later that same night, when the entire Dursley family was settled down after supper, the boys just finished with their new episode of Star Trek for the night and happily reenacting their favorite parts, Harry taking the parts of Picard and Data, while Dudley would play Riker and Worf.

"Boys? Boys!" Vernon said, getting their attention.

"Settle down okay boys? Your mum and I have something to tell you." He said, waiting for them to get settled on their pillows.

When they had full attention, Vernon turned to Petunia and gave her knee a gentle squeeze. "Boys, how would you like to have a younger brother or sister?" Petunia asked, smiling when both boys eyes widened

"Really? That would be awesome!" Dudley shouted, shooting to his feet hands in the air. It finally clicked for Harry. That's why he could see color in mum now, it wasn't hers, it was his baby brother or sister!

"You're pregnant!" He said, focusing so he could see his colors, happiness coursing through him as he watched them churn. 'Just like Pappa Albus' he thought. 'Just like mine' he realized after a second. And he grinned, he couldn't wait!

"That's right! I am, you boys are going to have a new sibling in just a few months!" Petunia squealed, not for the first time proud of how smart her boys were.

Harry stood and walked past his cheering brother, coming up to his mum and lifting his hand, resting it on Petunias stomach.

His smile could rival the moon when the colors of his baby brother or sister toiled with happiness at his touch.

* * *

Harry and Dudley were both sat in their finest black clothes, impatiently fidgeting and not bothering to pay attention. If they had they might have noticed the tears silently dripping down their fathers face.

"We are gathered here today to honor the passing of Marjorie Louise Dursley…"

* * *

"Keep your hands up! All boxers go down when they drop their hands!" Vernon shouted, grinning. When Harry's hands shot up to block another short strike from Vernon.

For the boys shared 9th birthday celebration, Vernon decided it was finally time to introduce them to one of his greatest passions. He'd been a champion boxer when he was younger, giving it up shortly into college when he found not enough time to focus on school and boxing.

When Harry and Dudley both came home from the match he'd taken them to play fighting, throwing each other to the ground in turns and flinging mock punches in every which direction, he couldn't be prouder to agree to teach them.

Two months later, Petunia was bringing trays of snacks and cold lemonade out to the yard. She'd taken to sitting on the porch, and watching, fatigue coming quickly to her 5 month pregnant self. Vernon grinned like a loon behind his bushy Walrus like moustache, and Harry ducked and dodged every punch, peppering in his own whenever he saw an opening.

Harry was a perfect out-boxer. Long limbs that would be toned with muscle soon enough, and a slender body that would probably never have any fat on it. He was fast, capable of staying out of Vernons range with no trouble at all, throwing in jabs and straights with short durations and only a little bit of power. Already after only a few months he was boxing circles around Vernon, him being lucky to land even one hit on Harry's heavily padded body.

Dudley though. If Vernon was a perfect out-boxer, then Dudley was the quintessential Slugger. He held his ground like a wall, taking hits like nothing else could and throwing his own that left even Vernon dazed. He was fast, he didn't weave around every hit like a wave in the ocean, like Harry. He was strong and firm, taking punishment like a true champ and dishing it out with purpose.

It made Vernon proud, his sons were both natural athletes. Their football team had never lost a single game since they joined, and now they were both fitting boxing so well it brought tears to his eyes.

"Don't you hurt my boys Vernon!" Petunia playfully called out, watching Vernon tumble to the ground after a particularly hard strike to his back from Harry. 'How'd he even get back there?' Vernon thought, spitting out the little bit of dirt that'd gotten into his mouth and crowding to his feet.

Harry squared up again, taking a firm stance and waiting for Vernon to give the signal again. He didn't wait long, and they were back at it again, Harry moving as close to perfectly as a 9 year old could manage, and Vernon keeping him pressed, occasionally spitting out pointers when Harry dropped his guard or overextended a strike or moved too quickly and stumbled over his own feet.

Dudley was patiently waiting, watching both his brother and Dad move. Vernon made sure to teach them both what all four of the boxing styles were, and Dudley knew he needed to watch them fight. Harry was an out-boxer, staying out of range and winning by points and endurance. And Vernon was a swarmer, keeping them pressed and peppering them with hits that kept them focused.

Vernon taught them early on a great boxer can win a fight just by knowing how his enemy fought. Knowing what hits to expect and where your enemy would go could spell disaster for any opponent. An opponent tries to move left, and there's already a heavy strike aimed for him waiting there? Forget it.

Dudley couldn't wait for when he got to enroll in a league. He also couldn't help but feel happy he and Harry wouldn't be in the same weight class. He didn't know who would win.

* * *

"Happy Christmas mum!" Harry and Dudley shouted as one. They'd been waiting patiently, as patiently as was possible for boys of their age, for their mother to hobble down the stairs in her heavily pregnant state.

"Happy Christmas boys! You didn't have to wait for me." Petunia said that, but the smile on her face spoke wonders to how happy she was at them.

Both boys rolled their eyes and turned to their presents. They'd been sorting and arranging them into neat piles for the twenty minutes it too for Petunia to get down. Now that she was there they both dove in, tearing wrapping paper and opening presents like ravenous animals.

They rolled their eyes at the ones marked 'Santa' and they grinned happily at the ones from Mamma Arabella, she always got them the biggest presents.

Petunia and Vernon just watched in silence. Patient smiles on their faces as their boys tore into the presents and begun to play with careless abandon. Arabella would ask them what they got every now and then, smiling happily as they explained their presents.

Then it was time for Vernon to give them what he thought was the best gift.

He left the room, giving Petunia a small kiss on the forehead as he left, coming back seconds later with a small rectangular gift. Presenting it to both boys he handed it to Dudley.

"This is for the both of you. Why don't you both take the paper off together." He grinned as they both grabbed fistfuls of wrapping paper and tore, revealing the small cardboard case surrounding the black VHS tape within.

"Rumble In the Jungle" the case boldly proclaimed to the world, with a bunch of other words Harry and Dudley couldn't make sense of.

"That boys, is a tape of the greatest Boxing match of all time!" Both nine year old's eyes lit up, before looking up at their Dad with the most hopeful expressions he'd ever seen.

"Go ahead! I got it to watch." He grinned when the boys were already putting the tape into the deck.

*knock knock knock*

Five rounds into the fight there was a knock at the front door. One which the boys didn't hear, too engrossed.

Petunia smiled to herself and shook her head. Pulling herself to her feet, and waddling to the door.

"Albus, we were wondering when you would be stopping by." Petunia said warmly, resting a hand on her belly.

"I am sorry my dear, my students and I always share a lovely breakfast Christmas morning." Albus Dumbledore spoke from the other side, smiling heartily.

"It's no bother Albu- Oh!" Petunia was cut off by a sharp pain in her belly, and the sound of a splash on the floor.

Albus was shocked momentarily, before his wand was whipped out and changing his robes into more mundane worthy clothes. "I believe we might need to get you to a hospital." He said softly.

"Vernon? Vernon I need you!" Petunia whimpered, doubled over and clutching her stomach.

"What's the trouble Pet'? The fights almost over." Vernon called back, not looking up from the television.

"Vernon my water just broke!" She replied back, a little more frantically.

"What?!" Vernon shouted, shooting to his feet and rushing to petunias side.

"Arabella get the boys dressed and packed up, we need to go now!" Vernon shouted, ushering Petunia out the door to the car.

"So mums in there giving birth?" Dudley questioned for the 33rd time that day, sitting impatiently in the waiting area just outside the room Petunia was rushed off to when they got there.

"Yes Dudley." Arabella repeated for the 33rd time, rolling her eyes at Albus' chuckle.

"But when can we go in?" Harry asked, sitting upside down in his chair and swinging his legs back and forth in the air.

"When she's ready Harry, it takes time." Arabella didn't even look up from her knitting. It'd been hours since they'd all been carted off to the hospital, and while two nine year olds could be patient for a time there was a limit.

Both boys let out a petulant little groan and went back to pouting in their seats.

"How did you do in your match a few weeks ago boys?" Albus asked, knowing full well it would distract them for at least a few minutes.

"I won by almost double the points!" Harry said proudly, his neck puffing out and his chest swelling.

"Yeah? But I won by TKO in the 3rd round!" Dudley stated, hands on his waist and standing tall.

"I didn't get hit once!" Harry squared up to Dudley, defending his own victory

"Yeah, but it only took me one hit to take them down!" Dudley was looking down on Harry, his chin so upturned it made seem taller than he really was.

As the bickering got started once again Albus and Arabella shared a grin and went back to their own activities, Arabella knitting and Albus reading.

It wasn't much longer before Vernon came shuffling out in protective scrubs over his clothes. "Come one in boys, your Mum wants you to meet someone." He looked tired, happy, but tired.

Both nine year olds rushed into the room, shooting to their mum on the bed. Neither of them could look away from the small bundle held against her chest.

"Boys, I'd like you to meet your baby sister. Marjorie Lilian Dursley." If Vernon looked tired, then Petunia looked downright exhausted, neither of them had ever seen her look happier though.

Harry focused on his colors, looking in fascination at the tiny rainbow held in his mums hands.

* * *

"A devastating swing by douglas! And down goes Tyson! Mike Tyson is no longer the heavyweight champion!" The scream of triumph and victory Harry let out at those words with the images on the Telly could only be rivaled by the scream of anguish from Dudley. When they'd heard that some rookie was challenging the (now former) heavyweight champion, both boys were excited. They'd practically demanded to watch it when it aired.

Five rounds in both of them were proclaiming it the best fight of all time, even better than Ali vs. Foreman, the fight they'd gotten for Christmas a few months ago.

It didn't take long for sides to be drawn though. Dudley was a devout Tyson fan, standing by the champion all the way, but Harry quickly fell in line with Douglas, screaming and shouting about how the champ was finally going down.

Vernon laughed as Harry danced in place, while Dudley pounded the ground in defeat.

Petunia just chuckled and shook her head to herself moving up the stairs to make sure the screaming hadn't woken the two year old sleeping upsairs.

* * *

The day Harry's baby sister showed her first signs of magic, was the day Harry finally made the connection to what his colors meant.

She had somehow gotten her hands on one of Dudleys old toys, one that he was still particularly fond of. Dudley snatched it away from her, shouting she would break it. When the crying started Dudley stoutly ignored his parents crowing at him to give it back, and pouted in the corner of the Den, as far away from the crying baby on the floor.

Harry watched in awe from over his book he'd been reading as the toy ripped itself from Dudley's hands and flew to Marjorie, the crying stopping in an instant to be replaced by the happiest little burbling he'd ever heard. Harry, Vernon, Dudley and Petunia all stared in awe at the little girl, before the ten year old Harry ran to his sister, scooping her up and twirling her in place. Harry knew she loved when he held her, and he loved hearing the way she laughed when he twirled.

Both elder Dursleys shared look, before settling into a calm smile on both their faces.

None of them noticed the sad frown on Dudleys face.

* * *

"Ha- harr- Haarrry!" Little two year old Marjorie squeaked out in triumph, finally getting her Brothers name right.

Harry scooped her up and tossed her screaming and laughing into the air, peppering her face with kisses whenever she came back down.

Dudley scooped her from his arms, jealousy saying "okay Marjorie, say 'Dudley' for me." He said, cheering with glee when she chirped back "Dudley" and laughed the happiest little laugh.

Vernon and Petunia watched from the kitchen with beaming smiles on their faces, the boys had been trying to get her to say their names since she'd said her first words months ago.

* * *

"Go Harry!" A three year old Marjorie screamed from the sidelines, jumping up and down every time Harry moved. She loved watching her big brother run back and forth, kicking the ball into the big nets.

She didn't know what it meant, but she loved cheering along whenever Harry kicked the ball into the big net, or when Dudley caught the ball before it could get into the other big net. She didn't get why Dudley was only blocking one net, but she liked that Harry wasn't kicking at Dudley.

She didn't like when they fought.

But she liked watching Harry run faster than anyone else on his team, kicking the ball so fast she couldn't even see it! She liked it best when they played together in the yard, she would always have the ball the longest, but it was fun watching them play on the big yard with all the other big kids.

"Go Dudley!" Marjorie cheered, watching Dudley punch at the other kid. She didn't get why they weren't wearing shirts, or the big red gloves, but her daddy said it was Dudleys job to hit the other kid and knock him down.

The other kid had already been knocked down several times. But he kept getting up! Marjorie didn't think that was very fair. If they were supposed to knock them down, why did the other kid get back up?

She'd already watched Harry win his match earlier. She was glad they didn't have to fight, she didn't like when they did what her daddy called 'practice'. Brothers weren't supposed to fight.

She didn't think so anyway.

"Yaaayyyy!" She cheered when the stripe guy waved his arms over the other kid. Dudley just threw the hardest looking punch she'd ever seen, and he fell like when she dropped a toy.

"Winner!" The stripe guy yelled, holding a grinning Dudleys arm up in the air.

She cheered with everyone else as they presented Dudley with the Big shiny thing Harry called a trophy, it looked just like Harry's!

She hoped one of them would let her hold one, she liked all their trophies at home but they were too high up!

* * *

The morning of July 31st, 1994 was a simple one. Harry woke up first like always, and plodded down the stairs in his pajamas and sat on the couch, pulling out his book from the small basket on the coffee table. A short time later his dad came down, tousling Harry's hair as he went by, still groggy without his morning coffee.

A few minutes after that had Petunia following a running Marjorie down the stairs. Harry had a few seconds to put away his book before a screaming 4 year old girl was tackling him back into the cushions.

"Happy Birthday Harry!" She was screaming over and over again, to which Harry just chuckled and hugged her to him as tight as he could.

Arabella walked in from the guest room, wishing him a tired sounding "Happy birthday Harry…" followed by a long yawn and her trudging to the kitchen where the delightful lifeblood that was coffee awaited her.

He smiled at the kiss Petunia laid on his forehead, and he pulled his wild mane of hair into a long red ponytail when Dudley came down and they all moved to the kitchen to eat the breakfast that was just finished being prepared.

Shortly into breakfast there was a knock at the back door, to which Vernon leaned over to open the door and let in a grinning Albus Dumbledore, holding a thick yellow parchment envelope in his hand.

"Good morning all! And a happy Birthday to you Harry!" He said with a jovial smile and a twinkle in his eye.

"Morning Pappa Albus, what are you doing here so early?" Harry asked through a mouthful of eggs and bacon.

"I came so early in the morning to give you something I have been very much looking forward to giving you Harry." Albus said with a smile just a little bit wider after hearing Harry's words, handing him the thick letter in his hands.

Staring down at his hands Harry read the words

 _Mr H. Potter-Dursley_

 _the second bedroom on the left upstairs_

 _4 Privet Drive_

 _Little Whinging_

 _Surrey_

Harry didn't even realize he'd opened the letter until he was already reading its contents.

 _ **Hogwarts School of**_

 _ **Witchcraft and Wizardry**_

 _Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

 _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc.,_

Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump,

International _Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr Potter-Dursley,

We are pleased to inform you that you have

a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft

and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list

Of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September.

We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

"Obviously as today is the 31st and I am delivering your letter by hand, you will not be expected to send a return letter." Albus said merrily, loving the look of wonder on Harry's face.

Harry had known this year was the year he finally got to go to Hogwarts, Albus having told him about it years ago. He was so excited to finally get his letter he couldn't contain it.

"I had hoped I might be able to take you to retrieve your supplies myself." Albus spoke again, loving the way Harry's head whipped to look at his parents with a hopeful expression.

"Of course you can go Harry, finish your breakfast and go get dressed. You can open your presents from us when you get home." At those words from his mum Harry scarfed down what was left on his plate and dashed to his room, coming back down fully dressed in his favorite jacket and shorts in record time.

"I will try to have him returned as soon as possible." Albus said, happily taking Harry's hand and disappearing with a sharp. *CRACK*

Neither Petunia or Vernon noticed the frown on Dudleys face.

"Where are we Albus?" Harry asked once his head stopped spinning and he'd picked himself up off the ground.

Albus smiled down at him, walking over to stand in front of the brick wall at the end of the narrow alleyway they'd landed in. Pulling his wand out he replied "this Harry, is the entryway into the primary Magical shopping district in Great Britain." While he spoke he was tapping a specific pattern of bricks, and stepped back slightly when the wall rippled, and started to move away, forming an archway into the single most beautiful thing Harry'd ever seen.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley." Albus spoke calmly, joyously watching Harry's eyes light up at the wonders around him. He'd always loved showing the Mundane raised students to the Alley, and he'd been immensely happy when his chance to take Harry finally came around.

Harry was in love. He'd known that magic was amazing, but this… this was something else.

People in all sorts of robes and other fantastical clothes bustled about every which way minding their business and performing displays Harry knew must be everyday occurrence, nothing to turn your eyes to or gawk at, but something so amazing to his eyes he couldn't believe it. And then the shops, ones selling brooms, ones selling cauldrons of every size and material, ones selling pets and ones selling plants, all kinds of shops and every single one Harry couldn't wait to see what they held beyond the windows and outside displays.

"Come Harry, there will be time for every shop, but first we must make a stop at gringotts, the wizarding bank." Albus gently took Harry's shoulder, leading him down the street towards the large white marble building at the end of the way.

Harry didn't hear him though. He'd made a mistake that made him fall in love. He'd focused on his colors. Everything he saw was an explosion of every color and every pattern he could imagine. It was all so beautiful and if it weren't for the gentle hand on his shoulder as he looked around every which way he might have forgotten to breath in his excitement.

Harry eventually had to force himself to stop seeing them. He wrestled with himself as he walked up the stairs to the large door, walking past to the stout ugly little creature that looked almost human but almost not at the same time.

"These are goblins Harry, they control Gringotts bank, and it would do you well not to stare. Do not speak unless spoken too and try to refrain from colorful language. Goblins are short worded and direct creatures and it is easiest to treat them the same, lest you find yourself at the mercy of their wrath." Dumbledore leaned down to Harry's ear to whisper this too him, sending him a pointed look that Harry knew meant he wasn't joking around here.

Harry nodded and looked back in forward, staring at the pair of ornate silver doors, engraved with a poem that set the same message Albus had just imparted

Enter stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn,

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

Harry tried not to think what they meant, walking forward and making sure not to look too long at anything around him.

There were lines and lines of booths and tills, goblins sitting behind them, signing parchments, stamping contracts and appraising gems and coins.

Albus and Harry waited for a time, for a goblin to signal them next and to walk up to a till.

"Good day, Mr Potter here and I would like to make a withdrawal from his vault." True to his word Albus was short and precise, stating exactly what he needed.

"Key?" The goblin didn't even look up from his parchments, holding out his hand to take the proffered key from Albus' outstretched hand.

He glanced at it for the briefest of moments before slamming his hand onto a small brass bell, and tossing the key at another goblin already walking passed.

"Follow Griphook, he'll take you to your vault. NEXT!" The goblin told them, before shouting out and grunting at the next wizard to walk up behind them.

Harry and Albus both followed the small waddling goblin into a large minecart "Watch your limbs." The Goblin, Griphook, stated shortly before pulling a lever.

The kart rocketed forward, twisting and turning this way and that, and harry was having the time of his life. And then they passed a large ornate cavern, where Harry saw the briefest flash of scales and a burst of flame.

"I just saw a Dragon!" Harry screamed excitedly, turning his head around to try to catch a glimpse of it again.

"Many a creature can be found guarding the vaults of gringotts, Harry." Albus told him, an uneasy smile on his face and his eyes focused on a small unmoving part of the kart.

"I want one." Harry stated matter of factly, glaring at the Goblin when he just scoffed at him.

"Dragons are a little too unruly to have as pets I'm afraid." Albus told him, sounding a tad more queasy than he meant to.

"Don't care. I'm getting one." Harry said, turning his head forward and pointedly staring, declaring the subject finished.

A few minutes later and splash of water as the kart went through a waterfall, it was parked outside of a large circular stone door.

Griphook was out first, standing by the side of the vault in no time, Albus was out seconds behind, dry heaving over the wall and looking almost as green as Harry, and Harry was out last, calmly trying to tie his hair back into its ponytail, hating how much worse the wind made its already unruly and disheveled nature.

When all three of them were ready Griphook had the door open, and Harry was gaping at the veritable mountain of gold silver and bronze coins. "The gold ones, Harry, are galleons. There are 17 silver sickles to a galleon, and twenty nine bronze knuts to sickle." Albus explained as Harry stepped forward and scooped a big handful of coins.

"Those numbers make no sense." Harry said pointedly, inwardly doing the math to try and figure out what one Knut must be worth if twenty nine went into a sickle.

"I suppose it doesn't." Albus had said those words more than he could possibly hope to remember, and he'd long since given up petitioning the ministry to change the conversion rates.

"Hey Griphook, is there a way I can take all of this with me?" Harry asked, turning his head to the scowling goblin.

"For a small fee of 10 galleons you can commission a linked coin bag that will allow you to pull out any amount you desire, provided you actually have the coin." Griphook did not look like he enjoyed answering questions.

Harry grabbed the necessary coins, handing them to Griphook, who pocketed them in an instant before slamming a long fingered hand against a small circle of intricate runes, drawing it back with a small brown leather bag. "If that is all let us be on our way, some of us have things to do." Griphook said pointedly, thankful when Harry and Albus both moved to leave the vault.

"If it might not be any trouble I would like to visit vault 713 as well." Albus said, already drawing forth the key.

Griphook looked at it, grumbled to himself something about lazy wizards, and said "Get on then, you're lucky it's only one cavern away."

Seconds later Albus was walking into vault 713, pocketing a small last leather bundle, and hopping back into the kart. And away they went. A short ride later and another quick bout of tying hair back Harry was walking back into the alley, colors blaring to life in his eyes and trying his best to decide where he might possibly want to go first.

Then his eyes caught sight of the place. It was the purest he'd ever seen, colors and patterns blending into a solid chronic mass of pure white. Harry knew he had to go there. And something told him not to deactivate his colors.

"That one, I wanna go in there first." He said, nodding in the direction of the shop, not even caring at Albus' soft chuckle.

"That Harry, is Ollivanders wand makers. Are you sure you want to go there first? It is often the most memorable part of the day to retrieve your wand." Albus knew it was a losing battle trying to argue against it when he saw the look in Harry's eyes.

"Come along then, this usually takes some time." He said, surprise overtaking him when Harry shot off towards the store.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair which Albus sat on to wait.

Harry was looking around in wonder. From the outside the shop looked like a blinding mass of white, but inside? Every color that made up the white on the inside was distinct. Short slivers of every color of the rainbow, forming new patterns and colors he'd never even seen, it was a symphony of color and beauty.

"Good afternoon." A soft voice said from his side. Harry heard Albus jump in his seat, but Harry couldn't bring himself to look away.

An old man with wide, pale silver eyes shining like moons through the shop.

His eyes widened a step when he saw the way Harry's eyes darted around, taking in every minute detail he could see.

"Mr Potter. I had wondered when I might see you enter my shop, and I had hoped it would be interesting to find you your wand. But now I know my work to be done." He said, gazing at Harry with a softness Albus had never seen in the old man. Mr ollivander had helped him find his wand, and even then Albus believed him to be the oldest man he'd ever seen at the time.

Harry finally looked fully at Mr Ollivander, a shot of fear going through him. Was he not going to get a wand?

At his look Ollivander softened just a touch more "you have a wandmakers eyes, Mr Potter." He spoke, leaning down to be more level. "You can see the natural magic in a living being that lies within so much of all us. You might have noticed you can't see spells in the air, or the latent magic in a rune. What you can see is the true essence of magic, the purest form that only a very small number of us ever get to partake in." He gently reached out, taking Harry's hand and leading him and a stunned Albus Dumbledore down the aisles.

He stopped a short few meters down, pulling a box down with a the most striking pattern Harry had ever been this close to. Inside was red, clumped mass of bright red that harry couldn't discern a single dot. But the outside, it was the purest yellow he would ever see, golden lines zigzagging around in the sharpest, wildest pattern he'd ever seen, all perfectly contouring around the red inside, not a single bit of it mixing, not a single ounce of orange to the wand.

"Holly and Phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple." Ollivander said, holding the wand out to Harry, letting him reach out.

Harry tentatively did so, watching his own colors swarm to his finger tips excitedly, before slowly receding. Harry didn't take the wand, pulling his arm back and looking up to Ollivander.

"I thought not. That wand was the one I rather expected to be yours before seeing you walk in, but now I know for sure. None of the wands here in the main body of my shop will be exactly right for you. Come with me Mr Potter, I have a room with Wands made specially for people like us." Ollivander took Harry by the shoulders yet again, leading him to the back, and pushing him through a door Albus didn't even know was there, into a small work room, small wood carvings tools, and bottles of materials Harry couldn't recognize all over.

Ollivander walked directly to a small chest, pulling out from its contents a number of wands that had Harry holding his breath.

"Mr Potter, I find I will not be much help any longer, please, choose the wand that feels best to you." Ollivander stepped back, moving next to Albus and watching with bated breath as Harry moved to the line of 21 wands on his desk.

Harry knew the moment he saw it which one was his, and when he reached his hand toward it, he could see and feel his magic swarming to his fingertips, begging to be in contact with the wand he was about to grab.

It was amazing. A dark purple core, spirals upon spirals swirling around each other beautifully. Encased in a combined mass of the most striking pattern of bright blue and orange he'd ever seen.

"What is it, Mr Ollivander." Harry asked, wonder and awe in his voice.

"The core is a dragon tail feather. Before you ask I know dragons have scales, but not forever, as a dragon ages and grows it's scales will be replaced, slowly, by some of the most beautiful plumage you would ever see. Most people don't know of this as dragons live to be so much older than we humans, but that tail feather was willingly given to me by the oldest dragon in the English isles, shortly before she passed. It belonged to a Norwegian Ridgeback, one of my favorite species of dragon, one which I prefer to use when I use dragon ingredients. The reason dragon feathers are not used in most wands is simple, they are too strong. Too much pure, natural magic courses through them for any normal wizard to connect to them. The same can not be said for wizards like you or I Mr Potter." Ollivander ignored the fascinated look on Albus's face as he continued.

"You might think from the mix of two different colors that there are two woods there, mister Potter, but it is only one. The body of the wand is petrified cherry wood. It was buried underground for what must have been hundreds of thousands of years, turned practically to stone. The orange you see is its natural color, and the encroaching blue is its stonelike nature it has taken on. Once again petrified woods are not commonly used in most wands. Not because they are overly powerful, but because I find them too troublesome to work with."

"11 inches, and the most bendy I have ever produced, you could very well bend it in half and it would spring back to shape with no wear." Ollivander stepped towards Harry, watching the way Harry's colors mixed with the three distinct of his new wand, becoming an extension of himself the way all great wands do.

"Take very good care of that wand Mr Potter, and if I were you I would pay close attention in Herbology, care of Magical creatures, arithmancy and runes when you start Hogwarts and those later classes become available in your third year." Ollivander took Harry's shoulders again, carefully maneuvering him back through the stacks and stopping him next to a small rack of leather holsters. Grabbing one of a good length and continuing back to the front of the store.

"Now Harry, I understand the desire to stare, but you have other things you need to do today, and it would do yourself some good now to teach yourself when to have your sight active and when to leave it." Ollivander said, watching with pride as Harry tore his eyes from his wand, blinking and refocusing on the world around him.

"That's better. Now I won't be charging you for the wand, a true work of art like that would only ever be at home in your hands. It'll be one galleon for the wrist holster I recommend you get and that will be it." He smiled when Harry nodded and handed over the galleon without question, pulling it from a Gringotts vault pouch.

"Thank you, Mr Ollivander, for everything." Harry didn't think he would ever be as sincere as he was looking at Ollivander now.

"The pleasure was all mine, now be along, and be sure to get lots of extra books, most people find themselves lacking when they've read through all their course texts and still want more, with no way of getting to the alley yet." Ollivander had the first real smile in almost three hundred years on his face as he shooed Harry and Albus away, turning back to his stacks and already pondering how to replace the wand Harry just chose.

"After something as exciting as that Harry I think it might be best to calm down a tad. Why don't you walk to that store across the way and be fitted for your school robes, I'll be along with your cauldron and scales." Harry nodded along, more than happy for something boring after the experience in Ollivanders.

Walking into Madam Malkins, Harry tried to ignore the urge to go back to staring at his wand currently strapped to his wrist under his sleeves. Looking up he saw Madame Malkin, a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Hogwarts dear?" She said, when Harry started to speak. "Got the lot here - another young man being fitted up just now, in fact.

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head and began to pin it to the right length.

"Hullo," said the boy "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes." Said Harry

"My father's next door buying my books, and m-y lord what happened to your skin!" The boy shouted, gawking at Harry in shock and what Harry thought might be a tad bit of fear.

"I got really sick when I was young, a side effect of the cure gave me my green skin." Harry said impatiently, he'd been hoping no magic person would question him, seeing as magic could certainly do weirder things than permanently turn a persons skin green.

"What kind of quack doctor messes up so bad he turns his patients skin green!?" The boy shouts, outrage that Harry didn't understand showing through.

Harry bristled a little bit, not likeing the insult to doctor Howard "Dr Isaac Howard is the best doctor in the world, if he could have saved my life without turning my skin green he would have."

"Whatever you say." The boy replied, sounding not in the least bit convinced. At a gesture from the witch tending his robes the boy hopped down.

"I hope for both of our sakes you and I don't share a house at Hogwarts, I don't know what I'd do if I had to stare at skin like yours all day." He said, before saying a clipped farewell and leaving, Harry not missing his presence in the slightest.

Harry learned a long time ago how to ignore people that judged his skin, but that doesn't mean it didn't put him in a bad mood when someone, especially a stranger, was rude about it. He walked silently through the apothecary picking out all his supplies, and didn't cheer up until he was walking through the doors of Flourish and Blotts, the Alleys book store.

"Go ahead and look around, pick out any extra books you might want, I will gather your required texts." Albus was not surprised to see the young man dash into the aisles, pulling books out anytime a title caught his eye.

Close to 100 books, a bottomless pouch, and 32 galleons later Harry was walking back up the path to his house, lugging all his supplies behind him.

He had some reading to do.

* * *

"So you're leaving tomorrow huh?" Dudley spat out, sounding way too aggressive from his side of their room.

He'd been standoffish with Harry all month, but it was worse today. He'd been angry and avoiding everyone all day, and Harry wasn't exactly looking forward to the fact that they shared a room.

"Yes, I am leaving tomorrow. Is there a problem?"

"Yeah, there is."

"Care to share?" Both of them were angry, but Harry at least felt he had a real reason to be. Dudley was being stupid.

"You get to go off alone to your fancy 'magic' school and leave behind the rest of us!" Dudley was quick to shouting, waving his arms aggressively.

"I'm sorry that I was born different than you Dudley, but I can't exactly help it, and I'm not going to spend my life ignoring an important part of myself!" Harry shouted back.

"And I'm sorry that I convinced myself for so long that you being gone for so long couldn't mean anything! But I was wrong, you come home with a 'wand' and some fancy books and you completely ignore the rest of us for a month!" Dudley took a step forward, pushing at Harry's chest.

"I have not been ignoring you!" Harry screamed back, pushed Dudley away from him. He fell back onto his bed and shot Harry the hardest dirtiest glare he'd ever seen.

"Fine then! Go! See If I care when you're gone!" Dudley yelled, pulling his covers up and turning his back to Harry.

"Fine!" Harry yelled back, doing the same, throwing a sock at the light switch to turn them out.

A short few hours later soft footfalls in the dark could be heard as Dudley crawled into bed with his brother.

"I don't want you to leave and forget about me." He whispered, pulling Harry as close he could.

"I could never forget about you Dud. I'm not going because I want to leave you guys, I'm going because my magic is an important part of me, and I need to learn how to use it." Harry whispered back, refusing to look at him.

"But why do you and Marjorie get magic and not me." And it all finally clicked for Harry.

He turned to him, wrapping him in the tightest hug he could manage, and whispered "I'm sorry Dudley, i know it's not fair, but you can't blame us for something we were born with. I promise I'll never let either of us drift apart." He didn't react when he heard the soft sniffles.

"Never." Harry repeated.

They were both asleep within minutes.

* * *

"Whooooooaahhhhh." Three Dursley children whispered in awe, staring up at the Hogwarts Express, the train Harry was supposed to board to go to his new school.

"You be sure to write once a week young man! I don't want to have to tell your sister that you're not writing to her." Petunia scolded, the awe at the sight of the great red train reduced after seeing her sister off for seven years. 'Why do they even use a train when they can travel instantly?' She thought to herself not for the first time.

"Yes mum." Harry repeated, rolling his eyes at the fact she'd told him that 4 times already.

"Don't you come back soft of me you hear? I expect you to get in some boxing practice whenever you can." At this point in his life Harry had learned by now when to recognize when his dad was deflecting.

He rushed to Vernon, wrapping him in a tight hug. "I'm going to miss you too Dad."

Vernon smiled, before returning the gesture. Marjorie clung herself to Harry's legs and Dudley and Petunia both came up to his side and joined in.

Five Dursleys stood together and hugged goodbye.

* * *

 **After the fact authors side note : I absolutely loved the idea of Harry having a little sister and I could not hold myself back, and honestly I gave her magic simply because I wanted the summers in between to be a little more interesting. And the reason why I had her be so much younger than Harry and Dudley? There was no way in hell I was letting her get anywhere near voldemort and his blood-war.**

 **Also I killed aunt Marge because I couldn't bring myself to even try to change her character to fit the more open and loving Dursleys. And it gave me a reason to be able to give the name Marjorie (one of my favorite names) to a character that I could actually enjoy.**


	3. Chapter 3

_**To anyone who might be returning, i know its been literally a year since the last chapter, and i am sorry. the only thing i can say to defend myself is that my life situation changed quite dramatically and i was not in a position i could write.**_

 _ **Im starting up a new story or two pretty soon, so updates will still be slow, but at the very least i am now in a situation that i can actually write and post.**_

 _ **leave a comment if there is anything you liked, or hated, or you just want to call me cuck. Its always good to hear peoples opinions on my writing so i can get better.**_

* * *

Horcruxes. Interesting bits of magic from an age long forgotten. Godric Gryffindor had never spent much time pondering any great mysteries of magic, but he knew that Rowena and Salazar had done so in spades. Even Helga had spent her fair share questioning the world around them and the magic that invisibly binded it. Godric supposed he'd always been different from them in that aspect. (And a great many more, but that was never a bother to him)

A horcrux was a simple thing once upon a time. Simply an object that a Human had implanted a soul into, be it their own, or in many a case their lost child's, or any other soul. For more time than was ever bothered to be remembered a horcrux was always made with all of a person's soul. There was nothing dark or impure about it, it was simply a means to stick around on earth after your body failed you.

And then along came Herpo the Foul. Truly a monster deserving of that title, so many of the things he did were looked down upon with contempt by history, it was hard to imagine there ever being a more hated wizard. And the public didn't even know half the things he'd done.

They knew he'd been the first to breed a basilisk. They knew he was a parseltongue, possibly the first. Those two things were enough to damn him forever in most minds.

Something they didn't know is how many curses that he'd put on the entire human race, magical and mundane alike. Like the one he put to make them sometimes forget what they were doing when they passed over a threshold like a doorway. Or his personal favorite one that made people randomly get itchy in places that they could never hope to scratch. Or the one that made people throw up when they are too much, or too little food. The list went on and on.

But the most foul act he ever made, was his corruption of the horcrux. He realized that through a truly heinous, evil act, ones soul could be split. Forever sacrificing their right to whatever afterlife they might have been granted. And why would he do this? Because if one piece of your soul was no longer attached to your body, your soul would never truly be able to pass on. Once again the path to immortality had led man to do horrible things.

And so the wonderful magic that was a horcrux, that used to bring relief and happiness, went down in history as a 'creation' of Herpo the Foul, one of the darkest and most vile creations in history.

When Salazar came to him about his findings on Herpo Godric was scared. Sal had always had a bit of a fascination with the dark arts, and while he'd never personally delved beyond the creation of the Basilisk he now called his familiar, he always jumped at occasions to see the effects of dark magic. Godric could never say he was a paragon of light, he'd done his fair share of questionable acts, but he had always drawn a line that sal just hadn't.

And when Rowena came to them with her own findings on horcruxes, what they once were, Godric knew that all four of their minds were made up in an instant.

When they passed, each of them was made into a horcrux.

Rowena was first. And her soul was placed in the Hogwarts leystone, the anchor point of all the enchantments, wards and all manor of other spells upon the school. Everywhere a student could go, Rowena lived on guiding them. She lived on with control of the wards, with control of everything. Godric knew she would be happy with that, she was the one who designed and placed most of those wards and enchantments anyway.

Salazar was second. When he grew sick, he began to lash out, and after a particularly vicious fight between them he receded into his chamber with his familiar, and was never seen by anyone again. Except Godric. Godric remembered the day Salazar called him down to his chamber, and asked him to place his soul there, and in the tunnels that connect all of Hogwarts, so that Salazar could watch over them from the shadows. No one needed to know how much Salazar truly cared for the students. Godric fulfilled his request with tears in his eyes and a growing sadness in his heart.

Helga was third, dying surrounded by all of her kids, all of her husbands and wives, all of her favorite students, and Godric. She had truly been full of more love than he had ever thought possible to come from only one woman. She asked him to place her in her favorite room in the castle, which would become the room of requirement with her influence. Godric chuckled once again(he could never begin to count how many times he had before) at that. Only Helga could die and still find a way to give people anything they ever wanted. Godric spent more time in that room in his final years without them than he would ever be proud to admit.

And then it came time for him to pass, and he asked the young woman who would become the first headmaster after all their passing to place him in his favorite hat. He'd had the hat practically his entire life, and it'd been torn and patched back together so many times it practically couldn't even be called the same. And he loved it.

The thing history had forgotten about Godric Gryffindor was truly how different he was to his fellow founders.

Helga bless her loving heart was one of the most single-minded and simple witches in history. Everything was family and loyalty to her. She learned all she did to protect and care for everyone she could. And she was brilliant, with a wand or a sword. But it was all for family. She married more than a hundred men and woman in her time, and either had children or adopted children with all of them. She would have never been the one a student would go to when they were being bullied or having trouble because Helga Hufflepuff was incapable of seeing any wrongdoing or fault in a person she truly cared for. He had never met a person who didn't love being around Helga, but he also knew for a fact she had never been anyone's confidante in anything more secretive or truly important. Her single greatest strength, and single worst flaw were simultaneously her love for everyone in the world around her.

Rowena was… different. Godric knew the Mundanes had a word for her condition now, he thought it might start with an a…? Bah, that doesn't matter. Rowena was a very difficult person to be around until you learned how to. By her own words she didn't understand other people. She understood words. She understood maths.

She understood magic.

Better than anyone else Rowena knew magic. She could go into detailed talks of theory and practice that even made other experts of their caliber confused and feel stupid. And that was the thing. She was truly the most brilliant witch of her time when it came to anything academic. But she was so hopefully lost when it came to people that it broke his heart. He remembered periods of months at a time where someone had reacted badly to something she said, and she had no idea even how to grasp what they were feeling, let alone why or how to fix it, and she had just shut down, because she couldn't understand. She had her own way for everything. That included showing that she cared, and Godric honestly thought that he Helga and Salazar were the only people to ever truly learn what they were.

And Salazar. Godric could honestly say he'd never had a better friend in his life than Salazar. They were brothers, in all but blood. It was true that Salazar drove him insane, that Godric hated how much Salazar loved the dark arts. It was true that Salazar was in most people's eyes a bigoted hateful man. Godric would be a fool to say that those things weren't true. But it was also true that Godric saw a part of Salazar only two other people had ever seen. And he loved that side of him. The side that would willingly die for a student, even a Mundane-born. The side that looked around the world with wonder and saw secrets to be unveiled and treasures to be found everywhere. The side Godric had briefly thought he was in love with.

But that was a story for another time. Not something he should let himself get into thinking about the day the new term started. He still had to decide on the finishing touches to his song this year.

Godric was a simple man. He could fight and cast spells with a fierceness and ability that would bring down anyone. He was damn proud to admit despite his vastly lacking knowledge in comparison he could win a 3 on 1 fight of all three of his fellow founders together against him and him alone. When Salazar revealed to them his familiar he stared its closed eyes down with no visible fear. (he was fighting pissing himself inside, but they didn't need to know that) He was no academic. He was bored out of his mind even just reading for a few minutes. And he didn't know magic even close to the way his fellow founders knew it.

He knew people.

Godric knew people like he knew how to breath. He knew how to talk to them. He knew how to tell what they needed, he knew how to give it to them.

He was the one who had always sorted the students.

And he loved that role.

He didn't care that no one knew how the sorting truly worked.

Where should a child who always had their nose in a book and was inwardly afraid of confrontation go? Gryffindor of course!

He sorted the children by where they needed to go. Not by what kind of person they were at that moment, they were children for christs-sake! It also wasn't by what the child valued like some thought.

Hogwarts was a school. Every facet of its being was meant to teach. Including the houses. People who went into Gryffindor were not brash idiots that jumped into situations with no regard for danger, they were the shy, nervous kids with troubled lives that needed to learn how to be brave, how to put on a strong face and push through their fear. Hufflepuff wasn't full of the 'leftovers' it was full of the people who needed to learn the value of hardwork, that needed to learn that there were more important things than just themselves, and that loyalty and companionship were very important things. Ravenclaw wasn't for the kids who never stopped reading, it was for the kids who didn't want to read, it was to teach them the importance of knowledge, that unfortunately it was important to recognize that knowledge was something everyone needed. And slytherin was not for the evil bastards or the back stabbers, it is for the children who need to learn that it's important to have goals, things to work towards, and it's okay to work towards them in just about any manner, provided that certain moral boundaries were not crossed.

Of course there were exceptions, students who didn't learn what he'd placed them to learn. Or students who were already complete enough people that it didn't really matter where he put them. Or his favorite the students who could be the perfect teachers, showing the rest of their house exactly how Godric thought they should be.

But for the most part the system worked.

Not even his fellow founders had truly understood what he was trying to do with the house system when he'd suggested it.

Godric knew when his time came that the house system could only continue to work if he continued to sort the students himself. So his soul was placed in his hat, and the hat sorted the students upon coming to the school.

Godric didn't care that the sorting hat just sat on a shelf in the Headmasters office the rest of the year. He was a hat now what else was he going to do? He also didn't care that no one knew what his hat truly was, all he cared was that Hogwarts stood proud at the end of the day. That the students were learning and happy.

"Tell me Albus, what sort of students should we be expecting tonight?" The hat rasped. Godric liked Albus, he still remembered sorting him. He remembered a lot of his adventures with Albus Dumbledore over the years. But again, a story for another time.

"Another Weasley," Albus said, a teasing tone in his voice. "My lord, that man needs to keep it in his pants. He must have started having children the day he left!" There had been way too many Weasleys under his brim, and with how many were boys there would prove to be a great many more in the coming decades. Godric tried not to let those thoughts scare him.

"Indeed old friend." Albus chuckled remembering all the times the hat had lamented having to sort another Weasley. He chose not to mention there was at least one more coming.

"Nothing else? No noteworthy new students?" One of a great many things Godric always liked about Albus was how he looked into every student. He liked to know who was in his school, and he liked to make them feel as welcome as possible.

"A new Malfoy will be joining us, Minerva says several of the mundane-born children show potential, and of course Harry Potter will be starting this year." Albus went down the list, mentally checking if there was anyone else the hat might want to be warned about.

Godric groaned at the mention of a Malfoy, "Very well, I look forward to tonight then."

"As do I." Knowing that was the end of things until the feast, Albus went back to his last minute paperwork, and Godric went back to his reminiscing.

Wasn't much else for a sorting hat to do really.

* * *

Harry was almost an hour early getting on the train, so he wasn't surprised at the empty compartments. He walked down the aisles for a little while, hoping to find one that was maybe a little bit bigger. Three train cars later he just chose the first one he saw after giving up on finding a bigger one.

Settling into the bench, he pulled his new favorite book out of his backpack and got back to reading. He'd read through all of his school texts, twice, wishin the first week of having them. He was glad he took Ollivanders advice to get extra books, and he was glad he went with his gut on getting bigger books.

He hadn't even made a dent in all of his extra books. And the one he was reading was by far his favorite so far. It was a book about rituals, when he pulled it he was hoping for something like summoning rituals or rituals that could tell him the future. The first paragraph squashed those hopes. Rituals were sorted into a class system, class 1 being the lowest type, and anything above a class 1 ritual was highly illegal.

And even still he was fascinated. He was probably 200 pages in and yet he'd only read about four rituals. Every ritual had so many forwards and warnings, and the instructions were so detailed they very well could have been their own book. The first one was a ritual that would grow hair. It didn't sound impressive but what was impressive is while the ritual was active the caster could focus on any hair on their body, and grow or shrink it to any length they wanted. It could be as simple as one arm hair to the length of a football field, or as detailed as shrinking all the hair on his body into nothing, as if they weren't there. And it locked that length. Harry's hair went down to just below his shoulders, and it was the wildest mane of curls spikes and flared ends he'd ever seen. But he'd always wanted longer, and now he could get his hair to wherever he wanted, and keep it that way. Unfortunately the ritual did nothing for the way that hair acted or its color, just the length.

Harry knew he wanted to try that one. Soon.

And then there was a ritual fo-

"Excuse me can I joi- Bloody hell what's wrong with your skin!" He was cut off from his train of thought by the door sliding open and a tall, gangly ginger coming in, cutting his own question off with another one Harry had heard more times than he could count.

"I had a mishap with some paint, what do you want?" Harry didn't think he liked this guy. He was staring at him with open fear and just barged into his compartment without knocking or even so much as a hello.

"What kind of mental paints their whole body green!" He shouted, not noticing Harry's eyes rolling 'and he doesn't know what sarcasm is either. Great.'

"If you're just gonna shout at me could you please go find another place to sit? I'd like to read." He didn't bother to wait for the other person to reply, returning to his book pointedly turning the page.

He heard the door slam closed. 'Good riddance' he grumbled, he could handle people being rude about his skin to a point but so far he'd only met three new magical people and two of them yelled at him.

He tried to read on for a time, finding it pretty hard to focus. Just as he decided to give up reading he heard a short knock, that sounded like two people knocking at the same time, before the door opened and two identical ginger teens coming in, with a teen with dark dreadlocks behind them. 'They're multiplying' he thought, looking at them.

"Excuse us-"

"You wouldn't happen-"

"To be willing-"

"To allow us-"

"Three fellows-"

"To join you-"

"Now would you?" The two identical ones spoke in turns, finishing their sentence together, and looking at Harry with an expectant look in their eye, obviously looking for a specific reaction. 'No way' Harry thought grinning.

"Why of course, three extinguished gentleman such as yourselfs would be more than welcome to join me." He spoke with a grandiose manner, exaggerating syllables and finishing with a grand flourish, presenting them to the compartment with bowed head and open arms.

"Why thank you sir."

"We greatly appreciate the gesture." The twins spoke together, grinning like lions at Harry's willingness to play along.

When they sat Harry turned a curious look to the third one behind them.

"I'm not gonna make as big a deal as them, but thanks man." He said, rolling his eyes as he flopped into the seat next to Harry.

"Don't mind Lee sir-"

"He's not fully trained yet-"

"Nor does he appreciate-"

"The subtle ways-"

"Of a prankster-"

"Which you so-"

"Obviously do." They held a mournful look as they stared at lee like one would a toddler that wasn't taking to its potty training.

"Not at all, not everyone can see the beauty in a finely held gag." Harry replied nonchalantly, putting his book back in his bag and turning to them.

"I'm Harry, and you are?" He'd dropped the joking tone, having had his fun.

"Fred." "George." The twins spoke over each other, also dropping the joking tone. Harry thought they sounded happy.

"Lee." The one next to Harry said, shooting him a thankful look.

"So you're a first year?" Fred asked, settling back into his seat.

"Yeah, that easy to tell?"

"I think we would have remembered seeing someone with green skin now wouldn't we Fred?" George said, looking to his twin

"Right you are George, though I do admit that this inspires a great few good ideas for pranks." Fred answered sharing a quick look before turning back to Harry.

"Yeah I guess that's true. Suppose you're curious?" Harry asked, not at all minding the nods all three of them gave him.

"Yeah I figured. I got sick when I was real young, and an awesome side effect of the cure was my skin. And the scars." He said, pointing to the multiple patterns on his neck and wrists.

"Our deepest apologies for your unfortunate ailments, young Harry." Both twins spoke as one

"No apologies necessary, as you can see I am in perfect health now." Harry liked these guys.

The four of them quickly lapsed into pleasant conversation, the three older students sharing some tips for how to survive the early days of school. Lee warned him that making friends with the twins was guaranteeing he'd be made into a prank guinea pig. To which Harry made direct eye contact and said boldly "Bring it on."

The twins liked him even more after that. Harry learned that they didn't just look like the rude ginger boy from earlier, he was in fact their little brother. Harry chose not to mention that he didn't like their brother.

The twins shared some stories of their siblings, having five of them. Harry returned in kind with stories of his own brother and sister. Lee unfortunately was an only child, but he tried to share some decent stories of his time with his parents, and his time at hogwarts.

Harry didn't even notice when the train began to move, fully engrossed in a story from Lee about the time his mother got hit by a prank from the twins in the mail meant for Lee. Her hair was apparently pink for weeks, and she was still finding glitter on parts of her body.

When the snack trolley came by, Harry offered to buy his new friends some. The twins jokingly suggested he buy all of it. Meeting them blow for blow Harry pulled several handfuls of galleons from his pouch he'd begun to keep around his waist. Minutes later he was staring smugly over a mountain of candy on the pull out table every compartment had. The twins both conceded defeat as they picked out a chocolate frog, both pocketing the card as it was one they didn't have yet.

A few hours into the ride they were interrupted in the middle of a retelling of the twins' favorite prank by the door being flung open and the boy Harry remembered from Madame Malkins sweeping in flanked by two houses wearing human skin.

"Oh it's you." He said, sneering at Harry, who just shot him a playful grin and a wink.

After a snort of disgust he continued "I had heard that Harry Potter was somewhere on the train but he's obviously not here." He sent a short glare at lee and the twins, before making to turn out and leave.

"It's Potter-Dursley now, actually. But I just go by Harry." Harry was in the process of tying his hair back into a ponytail as he said this, revealing the faded lightning bolt shaped scar he'd learned he was famous for.

All six of the other occupants of the room gasped, before the twins both got passed their shock and grinned.

"Why, ickle Harrykins, you never told us you were THE Harry Potter."

"The defeater of you-know-who."

"Savior of the Magical world."

"The boy who lived?" They spoke in turns, sending Harry the same looks he'd seen when they first entered, and the few times they'd lapsed into it during the train ride.

Harry met them grin for grin. "You never asked." He stated simply. Grinning a bit wider at Lees snort.

"I suppose we didn't, did we Fred?"

"That we didn't George. I believe the mistake here was ours."

"That it was Fred, that it was." They went back and forth, grinning back at Harry at the end, immensely happy they'd finally found another person who truly appreciated a good prank.

"You are Harry Potter?" The pale haired boy said, shock still evident on his face.

"I just said that didn't I? Do you need a moment to sit? Maybe something to get the taste of flies out of your mouth? It has been open for quite a while." Harry ignored the chuckles from the other three in the compartment this time, smiling pleasantly at the intruders.

The kid huffed, before straightening up and holding his hand out. "My name is Draco Malfoy. The two behind me are Crabbe, and Goyle. I would like to offer my hand in friendship, as I grew up in this world and I would love to help you find the… right sort to associate with." At that Harry's smile sharpened just a bit. He could already tell exactly what kind of person he was dealing with.

He reached out and shook Draco's hand "I appreciate the offer of friendship, and the offer of help, but I prefer to form my own opinions if it's all the same to you. If you wanted to study together when term starts I would sure appreciate the help of someone who grew up around magic." He met Draco's eyes, a hard look telling him exactly what he really thought.

"Yes well, that sounds reasonable. We shall speak again at Hogwarts." Draco was glaring at him. Obviously he didn't like Harry more or less tossing away his offer. Harry hid a smug grin when he saw Draco try to discreetly shake the pain from his hand. He'd gripped just a bit too hard during that hand shake.

At that Draco left, Crabbe and Goyle with him, shutting the door a little too forcefully behind them. "Well he was pleasant." Harry said jokingly, dropping back in his seat and looking around the room.

"At least he seemed slightly better than his father." George muttered, looking to the door.

"Our father has known his for years, and that man is a truly nasty piece of work." Fred answered Harry's questioning look.

All spoiled on conversation for a little bit they each busied themselves. Harry pulled back out his book of rituals, lee pulled out an essay and reread it, looking for any errors or mistakes, and the twins both began writing in notebooks they apparently kept on their person. Harry chuckled whenever he saw one of them glance over and write something in the others book, occasionally whispering things Harry couldn't hear.

Most of the ride passed in relative silence after that, only broken by the occasional page turn or short scribbling of a quill on parchment.

A few hours later their peace was yet again interrupted by the sound of a door opening once again. Behind it stood a girl with hair even bushier and frizzier than Harry's, and a pudgy boy with a cowed look about him.

"I don't suppose any of you have seen a toad? Nevilles lost his." The girls eyes lingered on Harry for a moment as she spoke, before continuing to look around the compartment.

"Can't say we have, though we'll surely keep an eye open." Fred and George spoke as one, grinning at the unnerved look they both sent them.

"Thank you. And you might want to change into your school robes soon, it won't be long before we're there." She said again, before softly closing the door and moving on.

All four of them rolled their eyes before getting up and changing. The twins did admit they were about an hour out.

"I suppose this might be a little late, but what house do you think you'll be getting into?" Lee questioned, quickly checking the collar on his robes.

"Why that should be obvious enough my dear Lee."

"Yes, what kind of question is that even."

"As if Harry Potter would ever be in any other house-"

"Than the house of the Brave and the Strong-"

"Gryffindor."

Harry rolled his eyes at Fred and George's antics yet again. "Honestly I really don't care. I feel like all four of the houses would probably help me in the long run." He said, looking back down to his book.

"You keep thinking that my dear Harry, we'll be saving you a spot at the Gryffindor table." George stated matter-of-factly. Fred nodding sagely beside him.

Harry just shook his head and tried to find his place on the page. He'd read about the four houses and honestly couldn't find it in himself to care enough about which house he might be in. As far as he was concerned he could fit in to all four.

A short time later the four of them were filing off the train. With a quick goodbye and a promise from Lee to keep in touch if Harry didn't join them in Gryffindor, Harry was walking towards the massive tower of a man calling out for the first years.

Once a sizable group of kids were gathered at the mans feet, he pushed off shaking the ground with every step he took towards a large gathering of Wooden boats.

"Hop in! No more'n three to a boat!" The great man shouted, climbing into his own. 'That boat is at least three times bigger than any of the others, why is it still sinking under his weight?' Harry thought to himself as he climbed into his own, being lucky to be the first one on.

A familiar pair climbed in behind him, making him chuckle. "You find your missing toad Neville?" Harry asked, frowning at the slouched shoulders and fearful look in the pudgy boys eyes.

"No. Thank you for asking." He muttered, close to a whisper and looking to the water below them.

Harry frowned a little harder, glancing at the girl with him "Don't worry mate, I'm sure he'll turn up eventually." He tried to sound reassuring but it didn't exactly sound right, even to him.

"I never introduced myself on the train did I? I'm Hermione Granger, and as you remember this is Neville, Neville Longbottom." The girl, Hermione as he now knew, introduced herself.

"Harry Dursley." He said, holding back a scoff when Hermione launched into a tirade about what she'd read in 'Hogwarts: A History'. Turning his gaze to the water he watched it pass by as he boats set off. The waters were calm.

"Don't mind the giant squid. You don't bother him he won't bother you." The large man in the lead boat bellowed. Harry heard him bark out a laugh when there were multiple screams at the massive tentacle waving at them from farther out in the lake. Harry was the only one to wave back, smiling when he saw its waving speed up just a tad.

And then the boats rounded a corner. Harry'd been having his breath taken away more times than he cared to admit since he'd been introduced to the magical world. He hoped that would never stop. Hogwarts towered high into the sky, warm orange lights peeking from more windows than Harry could count. It appeared to sit atop a huge outcropping of dirt and stone, rising up from the lake to perfectly perch up the castle. 'Okay maybe not perfectly' Harry thought seeing the large hall that hung off the side, held up by a clutter of trees so dense not even bugs could slip through.

Harry stared and stared, taking in every inch he could as the boats creeped towards a cave opening at the base of the cliff. "Watch yer 'eads!" The man bellowed, leaning down to duck below the cave ceiling. "You're the only one tall enough to worry!" Harry shouted back, chuckling when the man looked up and suddenly looked more bashful - under a truly massive beard and moustache - than he'd ever seen.

The boats pulled up to a small underground harbor, and after struggling off the boats the kids all filed after Hagrid as he took the steps up to a large doorway 13 at a time. Looking at the doorway Harry knew it had to have been enlarged for Hagrid, cause there was no way the school was originally built with a door that perfectly sized.

Hagrid punched the door in what Harry thought might have been a knock, and took a minor step back when it swung forward and revealed a stern looking woman in dark green robes.

"The firs' years Professor McGonagal." Said the man.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." Hagrid stepped aside, letting the kids follow the Professor through the door, into what looked like an entrance hall. If the outside looked amazing then the inside was just fascinating. Three of the walls each had doorways, one being the one he just came through. And the fourth lead into a massive room with the bottoms of what Harry could tell was probably the most intricate system of staircases in the world. But above the doors and the open arch Harry could see looking up thousands upon thousands of stone armored soldiers each standing vigil over the hall in their own little alcove. Far above them Harry thought he could see the parts of a clocktower he could remember seeing from outside.

"In just a moment you will be brought into the Great Hall, where you will each be sorted into one of the four houses. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Upon sorting you will join your house at one of the tables. The only times you are required to sit at your house table are during the opening and closing feasts every year. Your house is going to be like your family for the next seven years, guiding and supporting each other as you continue your education here."

Before McGonagall could continue multiple screams rang out from the crowd as a group of pale, faded images of people floated passed them and through the wall into the great hall. Apparently he books weren't lying when they wrote about Hogwarts having ghosts.

"If you will wait here, I will step in to make sure they are ready for you." Professor McGonagall walked through the door leaving the large group of kids alone. Nervous whispering and muttering spread its way through the crowd. The young teens were all wondering how the sorting would work. Harry snorted at the mention of 1000 question written tests, and laughed out loud at the mention of wrestling a troll from Fred and George's brother. Of course those two would tell him that.

"What say you Potter, how do you expect they will be sorting us." Harry didn't realize Draco had sidled up next to him until he spoke up in question, silencing the rest of the teens and turning shocked and curious looks his way.

Harry rolled his eyes"I don't really think it ma-" But he was cut off before he could finish.

"You didn't tell me you were Harry bloody Potter mate!?" The twins brother, Ron, Harry thought, shouted roughly pushing his way through the crowd to Harry and Draco.

"A. You didn't ask. And B. I'm not Harry Potter, I'm Harry Potter-Dursley, and I prefer people just call me Dursley." Harry said, trying to give as many people as he could a pointed look. He scoffed when he could see that none of them took the hint.

"What's the matter Weasley? Are you surprised?" Draco asked, one of the snuggest looks Harry'd ever seen on his face.

"What do you sound so superior for Draco you didn't know either until I told you on the train."

"What are you doing talking to Draco Malfoy?" Ron spat out, glaring with pure hatred at Draco.

"I can talk to whoever I want."

"But you're Harry bloody Potter. You're supposed to be the one who defeats people like Malfoy, not friends with him!" Ron shouted. Harry was hoping to give this guy a chance when he got to know the twins a little better, but that chance was quickly flying out the door.

Before any of them could continue McGonagall returned, silencing the entire crowd. Though Ron was still glaring at Draco, and Draco was still smugly glancing between them as if he were an aristocrat that owned both of them and the squabbles between them were nothing but amusing.

"Please follow me, the sorting will begin shortly." At that she turned on her heel and lead the entire crowd into the Great Hall.

And Harry was in a good mood again. There were candles floating in the air over four long ornate tables stretching the whole length of the hall. The walls were all filled with windows of stained glass depicting scenes of the four founders, and the ceiling mirrored the night sky perfectly. It was all so amazing and Harry could no longer care about the petty argument from moments before. Nor did he even mind the whispering about or staring directed at him.

At the end of the hall on a raised portion there was another table perpendicular to the rest that sat all the people Harry assumed to be the teachers. In the center smiling with one of the largest smiles harry had ever seen him smile sat Albus. Their eyes met briefly as the group of first years cam to a stop at the bottom of the small staircase leading to the staff table. Albus flashed him brief twinkly-eyed grin and a discreet wink before turning to look at the rest of the students.

As this was happening mcgonagall hopped up the few small steps and placed down a small four-legged stool. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. It looked like it had been destroyed and fixed possibly hundreds of times, each with a slightly different and newer material.

After a few seconds of silence, in which everyone stared at the hat, a rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:

' _Oh you may not think I'm pretty,_

 _But don't judge on what you see,_

 _I'll eat myself if you can find_

 _A smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,_

 _Your top hats sleek and tall,_

 _For I'm the Hogwarts sorting hat_

 _And I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head_

 _The sorting hat can't see,_

 _So try me on and I will tell you_

 _Where you ought to be._

 _You might belong in Gryffindor,_

 _Where dwell the brave at heart,_

 _Their daring, nerve and chivalry_

 _Set Gryffindor apart;_

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

 _Where they are just and loyal,_

 _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

 _And unafraid of toil;_

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

 _If you're a ready mind,_

 _Where those of wit and learning,_

 _Will always find their kind;_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin,_

 _You'll make your real friends,_

 _Those cunning folk use any means_

 _To achieve their ends._

 _So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

 _And don't get in a flap!_

 _You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

 _For I'm a thinking cap!"_

Harry didn't think he would ever understand the word 'Bewildered' more than he did at that moment as everyone else applauded the hats song. 'Seems a little boring that all we really have to do is put on a hat' Harry thought. He wasn't disappointed, he was just expecting something a little more...magical?

Professor McGonagall stepped up behind the stool "when I call your name you will come forward, sit and I will place the hat upon your head. When it calls out your house please move to join them at whatever table."

There was a brief pause as she made sure every first year heard her, before calling out "Abbot, Hannah."

Harry tuned out after her, not bothering to pay attention until he heard a name he recognized.

"Granger, Hermione." McGonagall called, and the bushy haired girl scampered up the stool, letting the hat come to rest on her head.

It was a tense few moments before the hat called out "Gryffindor!"

A flush came to the girls dark skin at the loud applause from the Gryffindor table. She removed the hat and the sorting continued.

A little while later Harry's thoughts were interrupted once again by "Longbottom, Neville." The pudgy boy from earlier trudged his way to the stool. Harry frowned at how nervous and downtrodden he looked.

Harry didn't know what the average for sortings was, he hadn't been paying attention, but it was only the briefest few seconds before the hat bellowed "Gryffindor!" 'Is it just me or did the hat sound angry' Harry thought, watching the boy trudge over to the red table and sit next to Hermione.

It wasn't long after that before Harry's thoughts were once again interrupted by McGonagall. "Malfoy, Draco."

The pale blonde strode forward. The hat barely touched his head before it shouted "Slytherin!" And he was striding towards the green table.

Harry tuned out once again, waiting for his name. He'd been hoping Albus would list him under Dursley, but he supposed since his parents hyphenated his last names that's how it would likely be.

"Potter-Dursley, Harry." The professor finally called, setting a hush about the hall in an instant. Harry sighed and stepped forward, ignoring the collective gasp and sending a quick look of frustration to Albus, growling slightly when Albus just grinned and winked once again.

Butt on stool, Harry closed his eyes and waited for the hat. 'Well well, it's been a little while since I was placed on someone as interesting as you.' Harry heard in his mind, as if he'd thought it himself. 'Now lets see here. Confidence and bravery in spades, a champion boxer I see. Not too cunning unfortunately, I can see a directness about you. Nor is there much ambition, though it is rather bold of you to assume you can keep your title being away for so long. Intelligent, a love of reading, but for the joy of it, and not for any true desire to learn. Ah there it is. Loyal to those deserving and hardworking to a fault. I don't suppose I've seen more of either in one student.' The hat paused at that, probably expecting him to say something. 'Put me wherever you like, doesn't matter much to me. Though you probably saw that rooting through my head.' 'Indeed I did, I merely wanted to confirm. I expect many a great thing from you Mr. Dursley, and I can think of no house that would accept you better than…'

"Hufflepuff!"

Dead silence pierced the hall as Harry stood removing the hat, before moving towards the yellow table.

And then there was cheering. The entire table he was moving towards erupted into cheers and applause, a lot of them standing on the benches. The other three tables were clapping politely, but Harry could see the red ones were clearly confused. He sent a smug grin the way of the twins, both sitting there with gobsmacked expressions.

Sitting next to a rather excited young woman with pink hair, Harry watched McGonagall settle the cheers back down and continue with the sorting.

"Who would have guessed that not only would there be another Metamorphmagus at Hogwarts, but they would be Harry Bleeding Potter!" The woman next to him said, slinging an arm around his shoulders and sending him a playful grin.

"Metamorphmagus?" Harry couldn't remember if he'd read that term anywhere.

"Yeah, a witch or wizard that can change their appearance, like we can?" She said, changing her hair between every color imaginable and even changing her skin to match his pale green.

"I can't change my appearance. This is just my skin." Harry said, stunning everyone around him.

"Oh. Well that's cool, I guess…" the young woman beside him sounded nervous now, obviously embarrassed about her mistake.

Harry repressed a chuckle "Can you change any part of your body?" Harry asked, grinning when she perked up in an instant and began to show off every part about her she could change.

* * *

"So why exactly did you wake me up so early the Great Hall isn't even open yet?" Harry spoke through a yawn, tiredly slouched on the wall next to a large group of his new classmates.

"Aren't you excited to get started? Classes start today!" Justin finch-fletchley, another first year Hufflepuff , cheered with entirely too much enthusiasm for how early it was.

"Of course I'm excited, but waiting outside a closed door for breakfast for 30 minutes is not what I was excited for."

The chuckles of several upper class men rang out next to him "Don't worry Harry, being in Hufflepuff you get pretty used to waking up early. Our entire house will be done with breakfast and ready for classes before even half of the rest the school is awake." Harry groaned at that. Cedric Diggory had introduced himself last night, and Harry could honestly say he liked the fourth year, but that was well fed and rested Harry. Tired Harry is a different matter.

"Cedric, I like ya man, but you're not pleading a very good case here." Harry mumbled, slapping his cheeks a few times and hoping the doors would open soon so he could get some food in his stomach.

Not too much later the entire entrance hall was a sea of yellow trimmed robes. The pink haired 7th year from last night, Tonks, plopped herself on the wall next to Harry. At least he wasn't the only one tired here.

Just a short few minutes later Albus, 'Professor Dumbledore' Harry had to correct himself again, came walking down the stairs. "Good morning all, shall we get Breakfast underway?" He sounded just as jovial as always, making Harry roll his eyes as he stood and followed everyone else through the now open doors to the great hall.

Quickly glancing up at the head table, Harry was surprised to see most of the teachers were already there. Professor Sprout, Harry's head of house, and Hagrid were both sending polite waves to the flood of hufflepuffs.

Harry stifled a chuckle seeing that Hagrid was sitting cross-legged on a lowered section of the floor and still towered above the table.

Turning to the mounds of breakfast Harry piled up his own mountain of food on his plate. He sent a quick thank you to teenage metabolism, and dug in. And after a quick bout of begging whatever made the food appear to give him something else to drink beside that god-awful pumpkin juice. He gave a quick thank you when it was replaced with a pitcher of orange juice.

"What class are you most excited for Harry?" Susan bones, another fellow first year, asked him. She and Hannah Abbott hadn't left each other's side since they'd joined each other last night. They'd even decided to room together instead of taking a single room like Harry had.

"Transfiguration probably, though I'm really excited for third year when we get to start the cooler classes."

"Yeah that makes sense, Hannah and I are both most excited for Charms. Professor Flitwick was a master Duelist before he came to teach here!" Hannah nodded along, silently agreeing with Susan's words.

"Didn't know that. Might make that class a little more interesting." Harry agreed.

Just like Cedric said Harry and the rest of the Hufflepuffs were already done and the first years were going over their class schedules by the time the rest of the houses were all together.

"Hey Harry, we've got herbology first, you wanna head over there now since we're already done?" Wayne Hopkins asked, gesturing to the rest of the first years. Harry agreed with a nod of his head, they packed up and made their way to the door. Harry said a quick hello to the twins, Hermione and Neville as he passed.

"Hey Ernie, you wanna explain what the heck quidditch is? I keep hearing people talk about it." Harry was curious, he'd overheard people talking about it all morning.

He was subjected to three other boys yelling about, in their words, "the best sport ever played!" For the rest of the walk to the greenhouses and the wait for class to start. He could honestly say he was excited to watch a game.

* * *

The first week of school passed by mostly uneventful for Harry. He'd been to all of his classes by the end of the week, and while most of them were fantastic, a good few seemed they would be a bit of a slog this year. 'Here's to hoping they get better in the later years.' Harry found himself thinking more often than not.

His first class of the year was Herbology, and Harry rather enjoyed it. He'd occasionally helped his mum with the gardening for a few years, and gardening seemed to be most of what they did. Every class started with professor Sprout explaining what plant they would be working with, then a short lecture about the proper method. (and dangers, as most Magical plants had some air of danger to them) and then they got to work tending to a sample of whatever plant they were working with that day.

History of Magic was a colossal disappointment. The first chapter in the textbook described the founding of the first ever recorded Coven. Every chapter was fascinating and Harry had already read through the text five times by the first class. But the teacher, a ghost named Professor Binns, was so monotone boring it even put Harry to sleep. He just droned on and on, demanding they write down names and dates and practically nothing else. And he'd even been getting people mixed up!

Astronomy was fun, they got to sit in the tallest tower and look through special telescopes, occasionally taking notes when they felt necessary. Harry didn't know how he was possibly expected to get a good night's sleep, but he could get used to it. Eventually.

Charms was lively. Professor Flitwick really did prove himself, tasking everyone with a simple color changing charm for their clothes for the first class. With the best practical instruction Harry had ever experienced, every single student left class that first day excited that they'd managed to get the spell to work. Professor Flitwick spent very little time with the theory (comparatively speaking) but practically speaking he was a genius.

Transfiguration was almost his favorite. Professor McGonagall was exactly the kind of teacher he loved, giving detailed instruction and answering questions exactly. She took command of the class from the very beginning, showing off exactly what made her qualified to teach by turning her desk into a large jungle-cat and back. Harry knew he would have a lot of fun with that class, especially once he figured out if the rumors of professor McGonagall being able to turn into a cat were true. Harry's mouth was watering at the idea of being able to turn into an animal.

Defense against the dark arts was just a joke. Professor Quirrel was a nervous stuttering tool. He couldn't get through one sentence, he spent more time fearfully glancing around the room than he did teaching, and his classroom reeked of garlic. Harry decided before the end of the first day he would use that class to just read from his book and practice on his own time.

And then his double-potions on Friday came around. Harry knew he would love the subject just from reading his textbook - and the several extra books he'd also gotten on the subject, he was excited damnit potions could do damn near anything! - and he was probably the only one that wasn't unnerved by the classroom in the dungeons. He was sitting near the front of the class with the same excited grin that had been on his face before every class all week.

Professor Snape swept into the room moments after everyone was seated. And calmly began to take roll call. Just like every other teacher at his name Professor Snape briefly paused, meeting his eyes. Harry decided to ignore the contempt in the professor's voice, and look in his eyes when they briefly made contact.

"You are here to learn the subtle and exact art of Potion-Making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word. Like professor McGonagall, Professor Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you only have the talent and mindset to learn them."

There was silence in the room as Professor Snape walked towards a small blackboard, flipping it over to reveal a handful of questions. "Before we begin let's test whether any of you have the forethought to read your texts before your first assignments. What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry glanced around the room, rolling his eyes at the looks of fear and confusion in every other students eyes. Looking back to Professor Snape he saw the same disappointment in his eyes as what Harry felt. 'Might as well' Harry thought, raising his hand.

"Mr Potter?"

"I think that was the Draught of Living Death?" He answered, hoping he said draught correctly, he was unsure of the pronunciation of that word.

"That is correct. Though it is pronounced 'dra-ft' Mr Potter." Harry tried not to let his embarrassment at not knowing the word show.

"Perhaps a simpler question is in order, since only one of you seemed to know the first one. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Harry chose not to raise his hand for this one. It was literally a first chapter answer. He remembered that from somewhere in the first ten pages. Though when a full minute of Professor Snape glaring around the class elapsed, he reluctantly raised his hand.

"In the stomach of a goat sir." He answered at Professor Snape's expectant look.

"Once again correct Mr Potter. Though it is worrying to see that you are apparently the only one to read even the littlest bit of the required texts. Perhaps I should be testing you instead. Tell me Mr Potter, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Harry blanched for a few moments, wracking his brain. He couldn't remember what the difference was. Wait "they're the same thing, aren't they?" He asked, hoping he wasn't confusing them with something else from the book. There were far too many ingredients with multiple names.

"They are indeed Mr Potter. Five points to Hufflepuff for bothering to prepare for classes. As for the rest of you, I should hope you had the presence of mind to write down those answers." At that Professor Snape swept to his desk, while the rest of the class scrambled to retrieve quills and parchment, scratching down their notes.

The class was perfect. Professor Snape told them they would be brewing a simple Boil curing potion, and after a short explanation of the instructions, ingredients and proper method, set them into pairs and they got to work. Professor Snape swept around the room silently, peering over shoulders and correcting any mistakes he saw. He saw a lot.

"Stir slower Mrs Bones. I do not want to have to tell you again."

"Mr Boot, if you were hoping to give your patient more boils, then continue to add those snake fangs whole, instead of crushing them as I instructed mere minutes ago."

"Mrs Brocklehurst, you would do well to spend more time stewing your horned slugs."

"Mr's Potter and Finch-Fletchley, I should hope you don't think you are done. That potion has not had nearly enough time on the fire for the correct consistency, nor has it settled into the correct color." Harry's cheeks darkened along with his partner Justin as they both tried to hide the porcupine quills and vials they had been getting out.

The class was tense, quiet, and Snape's presence unnerved everyone. Harry loved every second. Professor Snape somehow managed to be the best teacher he'd ever had. Before he'd even let them think about starting their potions he'd drilled into them every aspect of the process, and while it was unnerving he somehow managed to key into every even tiny mistake anyone made, correcting them until every student was turning in a near perfect potion at the end. Professor Snape glared at everyone and spoke with more contempt than Harry had ever heard, yet Harry could tell he had a true passion for the subject. Harry didn't expect he'd be getting along too well with the professor, but the class was quickly declared his favorite.

Two weeks into school Harry was in love. He'd spent every day scurrying between classes, absorbing every bit of knowledge he could. He'd been focusing on his colors as much as he could, exploring every inch of the castle, watching the way every single thing in the castle swirled with colors and patterns he'd never seen.

Harry was honestly in love with magic.

* * *

"You excited for your first day of flying Harry?" Lee asked through a mouthful of eggs and sausage. Harry had been eating most of his breakfasts with his friends in Gryffindor since the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindor's only shared one class together, and the twins and Lee were two years above him. He had classes and ate lunch with his fellow Hufflepuffs so it was fine.

"Yeah, sounds like it'll be fun." Harry spoke once he'd swallowed, once again earning an appreciative look from Hermione for not talking with his mouth full.

" 'Fun' he says."

"As if the son of the greatest seeker to ever grace the halls of Hogwarts."

"Could ever be anything but a savant in the art of flying."

"That's all well and good guys but it is good to remember I've never flown before today." Harry didn't think he'd ever grow tired of the twins antics. He knew it wasn't for everyone, hermione especially seemed to be rolling her eyes a lot. (Though he was pretty sure she loved it almost as much as he did, she just refused to admit it.)

"Don't forget you promised to help Neville and I with our potions assignment." Hermione piped up. Harry rolled his eyes at her, she'd been reminding him all morning. He liked hermione but even he could admit she was maybe just a little bit too studious for her own good.

"I'm not gonna forget hermione, don't worry about it. I'm already done with mine, we'll head to the library as soon as flying lessons are done."

"It's Saturday! Why are you talking about doing homework for a class we don't have until the end of next week!" Ron yelled, shooting nasty glares at Harry and Hermione.

"Because when you do your work early you don't have to worry about it anymore." Was it pathetic that Harry had gotten used to Ron's terrible attitude and incessant bothering after only two weeks?

"But it's Saturday!"

"That it is, and I'll be enjoying my Saturday with my friends when our class work is done and we don't have to worry about it anymore." Harry didn't even bother looking at Ron anymore.

"What's that you got there Neville?" Lee asked, once again being the one who had to divert attention from the annoyance that was Ron Weasley.

"My gran sent it to me."

"Is that a remembrall?" Hermione cut him off.

"Yeah, it's supposed to help you know when you've forgotten something… oh." He muttered, seeing the fog on the inside turn red.

"Well that's pretty useless, isn't it? How's it supposed to help if it doesn't also tell you what you've forgotten?" Fred asked, eyeing the glass orb.

"Yeah, its not exactly helpful." Neville muttered, staring at the orb in his hands.

"Well now you know you've forgotten something, maybe you'll remember on our way to lessons." Harry said, patting Neville on the back as the first years all stood up.

They met up with Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott on their way out the hall, and the five of them made their way out to the courtyard.

"Draco you don't even know what a Helicopter is!" Harry shouted across the courtyard, finally getting tired of Dracos bragging about how good a flyer he was.

"Alright everyone line up! Stand next to a broom, come on!" Madame Hooch yelled out, saving everyone from whatever petulant reply he was planning to give Harry.

When everyone was next to a broom she continued. "Alright everyone, reach out with your dominant hand and firmly say 'UP' nice and clear!"

Harry chuckled watching 30 first years all shouting "UP" at a broom, stifling actual laughter seeing that Dracos broom wasn't coming up.

"UP" Harry stated, a little surprised when the broom immediately slammed up into his hand.

"Now that all of you have your brooms I want you to mount them like so," she said, waiting briefly for all of them to get their brooms ready. "Now when I say, kick off the ground and allow yourself to hover just slightly off the ground. I don't want to see any of you flying off!"

Harry was about to kick off when he heard screaming a few people down from him.

"Mr longbottom! What did I say?" Madame hooch shouted, watching Neville shoot into the air and rocket off in the direction of the castle.

He flew forward, screaming his lungs dry and trying desperately to steer around the castle. Harry watched terrified as he somehow managed to pull himself up from not planting directly into the castle wall, only to smash into the lip on the roof, falling down and catching his sweater vest on the sword of a statue, only for it to tear and fall feet first to the ground.

"All of you stay on the ground! I don't want to see any of you in the air when I return from taking Mr Longbottom to the infirmary." Madame Hooch called out, rushing to Neville's side, waving her wand a few times and pulling Nevilles now floating body into the castle.

"Serves him right! That's why they shouldn't let squibs like him into Hogwarts." Pansy parkinson snickered, getting a chuckle from most of the rest of the slytherins.

"Shut it Parkinson!" Parvati Patil hissed out. Sending a vicious glare in that direction.

"Look!" Draco called out, darting forward and snatching something from out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing the pathetic Squibs gran sent him."

"Give that here, Draco!" Harry shouted, stalking towards him.

"You want it do you Potter? Then go get it!" He shouted, before rearing back and throwing the remembrall as far as he could. Which was apparently pretty far, as it glinted in the sun still somehow going up.

"This is the last time I'll say it Draco, my name is Dursley!" Harry said, rearing back striking his arm forward, connecting with the satisfying crunch of a broken nose Harry knew so well. After that he quickly mounted his broom, ignoring hermione screaming about getting everyone in trouble, and shot off after the glint of light he could see the remembrall was making off the sun.

Harry didn't count how long it took him to reach the orb, grabbing it out of the sky, and rear back to the ground. He knew it had to have been fast, because when he landed he saw shocked faces all around him.

"MR DURSLEY!" Harry winced. Slowly turning to see Professors McGonagall and Sprout running into the courtyard.

The next few minutes were a blur as Harry was dragged from the courtyard, he was glad to hear multiple people - even Ron - try to defend him, and carted off to the headmasters office. Where he was promptly sat on a small bench just outside the door and told to wait while Professor Sprout talked to Dumbledore.

Professor McGonagall stood next to him, anger and disappointment coming off her in waves. She didn't say anything, which was honestly worse in Harry's opinion. They just waited together as professors Sprout and Dumbledore had their talk on the other side of the door.

What seemed like hours later, 'why aren't there any clocks?' Harry thought not for the first time, the door finally opened and Dumbledore's elderly face was revealed. "Thank you for keeping Mr Dursley company Minerva, but that will be all. If you could make your way to the infirmary to check on Mr Malfoy?" McGonagall nodded, making to walk back down the stairs.

"Professor wait! If you're going to the infirmary could you give this to Neville? Harry asked, pulling the remembrall from his pocket and handing it to the still glaring Professor. She took it from his hand without a word and walked off.

Turning back to the door Harry saw a smile on Dumbledore's face as he ushered him into the office.

Harry took a seat next to Professor Sprout, waiting for Dumbledore to take his seat and say something.

"Now Harry, while I am quite proud of your actions defending another student, as well as the significant talent you showed retrieving Mr Longbottom's Remembrall, I am quite disappointed in you for striking Mr Malfoy as you did." He gave Harry that same disappointed look Harry had always hated, making him squirm the littlest bit.

"I don't tolerate bullies Professor, and Draco has proven he won't listen to words. Hopefully actions will speak a little louder here." Harry said, pointedly refusing to make eye contact.

"Yes I am aware you have had previous altercations with Mr Malfoy, but we cannot let your actions stand. Violence is not accepted here at Hogwarts. For your Punishment you will be serving Detention every night for the next week with Hagrid helping him perform his duties as groundskeeper."

"Yes sir." Harry muttered, at least glad it wasn't anything worse. Filch had been eyeing him dirty ever since he'd seen Harry with the twins checking out a few of the secret passages.

"Now as for your other actions in retrieving Mr Longbottom's Remembrall. Starting next week I want you to report to practice with the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. Before you get excited you will not be joining the team, had you not explicitly ignored your professors instructions and decided to punch Mr Malfoy that might be different, but I am not letting someone with your natural talent get away, you will practice with the team for the next year where at that point you may be allowed to join." Harry knew it wouldn't be a good idea to let his excitement at that prospect show, instead glancing between professors.

"That is all, Harry, you may return to your day. Though I ask that you refrain from visiting the infirmary, it would do you good to stay away from Mr Malfoy for a while." Harry nodded, getting up to leave and head to the library.

* * *

Harry knew he was a pretty tall person. He'd shot up pretty quickly when he turned 12, in the span of a year growing over a foot. A fourteen year old who was just under six foot was nothing to sneeze at.

He didn't even reach Hagrids waist. The man was a giant. 'Half-giant' he corrected himself.

"So what can I help you with Hagrid? We're stuck with each other for the next week." Harry asked, straining his neck to try to look up at hagrids face.

"Professor Sprout finally finished growin up a batch of her special pumpkins for Halloween. We're gonna prepare me field for plantin." Hagrid replied, nodding towards the moderately sized crop field wedged between the back wall of Hagrids "hut" (it was really more like a small mansion, but a man his size needed a lot more room.) and the edge of the forbidden forest.

"So what do you want me to do?" Harry asked, hoping Hagrid wasn't gonna make him pull the huge plow set in one corner of the field.

"Yer gonna follow me with a trowel as I pull that there plow and make sure me lines er strait." Hagrid leaned down to hand Harry a trowel, roughly shoving it into his chest in what must have been gentle for the man.

"Sorry, little hard to control me strength sometimes." He said, giving Harry a sheepish smile from his crouched position.

"No problem Hagrid." Hagrid nodded at him quickly, tromping over to strap himself into his plow.

Harry was actually kind of looking forward to this. The short amount of time he'd spent with Hagrid walking down to his "hut" proved him to be excellent company, and Hagrid was definitely the talkative type. Harry thought he might almost have fun with this!

* * *

'That was fun!' Harry thought to himself, walking through the entrance hall towards the Hufflepuff dormitories. He'd placed himself behind Hagrid to follow him for efficiency's sake, and promptly laughed himself silly at the tidal wave of dirt and mud that practically drowned him when Hagrid surged forward. He'd quickly made a game out of it. Trying to see how well he could dodge the waves, dragging his trowel along behind him to make sure he was still doing what Hagrid asked him to do. A few rows in Hagrid caught on to what he was doing, joining in by trying to change up the speed at which he moved, sometimes slowing to a stop before bursting forward in a ground-shaking leap. It took way longer than it should have, but three hours later a thoroughly dirty Hagrid and Harry looked in pride at the perfect rows of their soon to be pumpkin patch.

Hagrids lower body was completely covered, but other than some dirt clods in his hair and some mud on his frame his upper body was mostly clean. Harry on the other hand was completely covered. Not a single inch of him was visible under a thick layer of brown. Both of them had huge infectious grins on their face.

Hagrid happily escorted Harry up to the castle, explains to Mr filch why he was so late after curfew, and waved Harry off as he moved to his dorm.

Or at least that's where he had intended to go.

'Was that Fred?' Harry asked to himself, carefully following up one of the staircases, turning down a corridor to catch a glimpse of both twins sneaking into an unused classroom next to the library. He carefully followed, hoping he was the only one that heard the gentle crunching he made whenever me moved.

"What are you two doing in here?" He asked, silently closing the door behind him. Grinning as both twins jumped at the sound of his voice, before cringing away at the sight of him.

"Monster!"

"We're sorry Mr monster!"

"We won't go out after curfew again!"

"Don't eat us!" They both cried at once. On their knees begging.

"Guys, as amusing as this is, it's me. Harry." He said, grinning at the looks of confusion on both their faces.

They both inspected him for a moment, before standing up with hunched shoulders and both letting out sighs of relief. "Harry mate you can't scare us like that."

"Your appearance at this moment borders on the terrifying."

"And why are you looking so particularly monstrous this late evening?"

Harry rolled his eyes, even when recovering from legitimate fear these two never let up.

"Had detention with Hagrid, this is the result of a night of Half-Giant gardening." Harry said, striking a pose to show off just how covered he was.

"Inter-"

"Guys normally I love your whole Schtick but just this once can we cool it? I'm tired and obviously in need of a shower...or five." Harry cut Fred off from whatever they were about to start in on. Both twins glanced at each other, before turning back to him with more genuine smiles.

"Sure thing Harry. We can admit that does get pretty tiring sometimes." George said, walking towards the door.

"Come on then, let's get your dirty young self to a shower." Fred said, clapping Harry on the back and directing Harry towards the door.

George swung the door open, only to immediately come face to face with a shocked and scared looking Hermione.

The four of them stared at each other, Harry and the twins confused why hermione of all people would be out after curfew.

"What are you three doing here?" She whisper shouted, nervously glancing around like she was expecting the whole staff to come around the corner.

"I was returning from my detention with Hagrid when I noticed these two returning from what I'm assuming was some kind of Prank." Harry shot the twins a look, 'now is not the time' he tried to tell them wordlessly. They seemed to get the message.

"What are you doing here?" George asked, he too glancing in the direction he remembered last seeing Filch.

"I… might have fallen asleep in the library…" hermione muttered, refusing to meet the exasperated looks on all three of their faces.

"Well come on then, three of us happen to be going to the same place, and the Hufflepuff dorms are on the way." Fred whispered, leading the four of them down the hall, and onto a stairway that immediately started moving upon all four of them stepping on.

"Who's there!?" They heard shout from another staircase. A little known secret only Argus filch had ever bothered to notice was that the stairs only moved when someone or something was on them. Sure something like a bug could trigger them, but late at night the stair went mostly inactive unless there happened to be students around.

"Run!" Harry whisper-screamed to the three others, all four of them breaking into as close to sprints as they could get into the hallway the staircase lead them to.

"I will find you!"

"We need to hide, now!" Hermione whispered in a desperate voice, clinging to Harry's hand as all four of them looked around for anywhere to hide.

"There!" Fred pointed out, rushing towards a door in the left wall, his wand whipping out to cast a quick spell when it didn't immediately open upon desperate attempts at the knob.

When the four of them were all piled inside, breathing ragged as they tried to keep quiet, they all let out a sigh of relief when they saw a light and shadow pass under the door. Listening to Mr Filch trudge down the hall.

"That was close." Fred muttered, collapsing against the wall.

"Eep!" They heard hermione squeak out.

Harry turned around, finally looking Into the room.

'Well that's certainly unexpected.' Harry thought, staring forward at the massive three-headed dog sleeping in the room.

Both the twins turned around as well, stiffening at the sight. And then it began to stir. Letting out the most deceptively adorable little yaps and mewls as it roused itself awake.

And then it realized it had company. And it began to growl. And slowly stalk forward towards them.

*SMACK* *yelp*

"Bad doggy!" Harry shouted, hand still outstretched into a fist where the middle head had been.

The three-headed dog let out the most pathetic little whimper as it tried to hide its middle head behind its two side heads.

Harry moved forward and reached towards the closest head to him, gently petting its head, before transitioning into a vigorous scratch when the dog leaned into his touch.

"Who's a good puppy? You are! Yes you are!" Harry cooed, happily scratching every inch of the wall of fur and dog in front of him.

The twins and Hermione watched in shocked horror as the three-headed dog rolled onto its back, and Harry leaped up onto its belly to scratch and rub as vigorously as he could. Cooing at it all the while.

"What's your name boy?" Harry asked, looking to its neck and being happy to see there was a giant collar wrapped around its neck.

"Fluffy, is that your name boy?"

*ARF* the three heads barked together, tongues lolling out in heavy pants.

"Harry we need to go!" Hermione shouted, still terrified of the giant three headed dog laying prone on its back.

"But… Puppy?!" Harry shouted back, gesturing wildly to the dog he was sitting on.

"Harry mate, I hate to spoil your fun but we're still out after curfew…" Fred muttered, still looking on dazed as Harry scratched and pet the giant dog.

Harry pouted for a bit, before sighing and crawling off Fluffys stomach. He reached out to scratch behind its now confused looking head, only the left since it was the closest one to him.

"I'll be back another time Fluffy." Harry muttered sadly, heart breaking at the sad little whine Fluffy let out.

The Cerberus hauled itself up onto its haunches, heads dipped sadly as it watched Harry leave. Harry let out a little whimper of his own as he followed the twins and hermione out the door.

"You guys… this is the third floor corridor. Why is there a Cerberus in the third floor corridor?" Hermione asked, dazedly staring down the hall with a shocked look on her face.

"I don't know. What I do know is that I'll be coming back." Harry had always wanted a dog. And this one was three in one!

* * *

"I don't care if he was sitting on top of a trap door Hermione! Who cares about whatever he might be protecting he's a giant dog!"

* * *

"Harry what's wrong." Lee asked, confused.

"I don't have enough hands." Harry whined, tears streaming down his face while he scratched two of fluffy's massive heads.

* * *

"Hey Hagrid, do you know what would be good to feed a giant dog for treats?" Harry asked, walking in front of Hagrid throwing seeds Into the dug up lines, while Hagrid pushed the dirt back into them over the seeds.

"Now why would yeh want to know that Harry? Yeh haven't been pokin around where yeh aren't suppose to have yeh?" Hagrid asked, sweating nervously.

"Yeah, accidentally ended up in that room the other night with Fluffy."

"Harry you need to forget abou-"

"Don't worry Hagrid I don't care about whatever it is Fluffy is supposed to be guarding. I just want to play with the puppy."

"Ah. Well if yeh promise yeh won't be pokin around any further I can tell yeh a few things about takin care of him. Be good for him to get some company." Harry grinned and listened closely as Hagrid launched into an explanation on proper Cerberus care.

* * *

"So do you know anything about quidditch Harry?" Cedric asked him. He and Tonks were leading him down to the quidditch pitch for his first practice.

"My classmates tried to explain the rules to me a few weeks ago, but I didn't really listen to most of it."

"Alright well there are seven players on a team, and three positions to play, keeper, chaser and seeker. On any team there's only one keeper, and one seeker. The other five all play chaser. It's the chasers and the seekers job to score goals, and it's the keepers job to block goals. The seeker also has the additional goal of being the one to end the game, but the vast majority of gameplay is spent scoring goals." Cedric paused, making sure Harry was keeping up.

"I'm following so far, please continue."

"Right. There are two balls in play at any given time in the game, the quaffle, and the snitch. Once again the quaffle is the only one you need to worry about for the most part. The chasers and seeker play with the quaffle, trying to score goals by throwing it through one of the three rings at both ends of the field."

"Let me guess the keeper blocks the shots made at the rings?" Harry asked, mostly just to let them know he was actually listening.

"Exactly." Tonks said, shooting him a smile.

"So why the three rings?" Harry asked, having a guess but wanting confirmation.

"All three rings are different sizes, the lowest on the left is the biggest. The mid height one on the right is middle sized, and the middle ring is the tallest and smallest ring."

"And they're all worth different points?"

"Correct. The largest ring is worth 10, the middle worth 20, and the smallest is worth 30."

"Why are the points so high? Why not just one two and three?"

"Honestly? No idea. Best guess is that it's just for flair. Bigger numbers look more exciting I guess." Cedric answered. "Though here in school each ring is only worth 10 points, so as to make the games a little more fair for us."

"Makes sense, we only played half games in football during the junior league, and in boxing we only fought three rounds instead of 9."

"Yep, same thing." Tonks replied, since Cedric didn't know what Football or boxing were.

"So when do the seeker and the snitch come into play? I'm assuming those two are together since you haven't talked about what the snitch does or the seekers second objective."

"The snitch is put into play at the start of the game, just like the quaffle, but the snitch is charmed to hide from the players. The seeker is the only one allowed to catch the snitch. When the snitch is caught the player who caught its team gets 50 points and ends the game. For the vast majority of the game the seeker plays just like any other chaser scoring goals, but they also have the secondary objective of keeping an eye out for the snitch, as well as paying attention to their teams points so that they can use the snitch to end the game and put their team in the lead for the win."

"Usually during school games whichever team catches the snitch is the winner. But professional games it can go either way." Tonks continued for Cedric, explains what Harry thought must be an unfortunate truth for the school games.

"Are the players allowed to do anything to each other? Cause otherwise this just sounds like more complicated Football on broomsticks." Harry asked in an unimpressed tone of voice.

Both Cedric and Tonks grinned at each other. "Have you heard anything about the quidditch branch of magic Harry?" Cedric asked, turning their Maniacal grins his direction.

Harry gulped with a shake of his head.

"It's a special branch of magic focusing mostly on illusions and minor annoyances that quidditch players are allowed to use on each other. You're allowed to use just about any spell that the referee deems acceptable. If you get called the opposing team earns a penalty shot, almost always resulting in 30 points. In professional games you'll see players engulfed in dragons of flame and shooting mundane skyscrapers at each other, only to see that it was actually another player disguised and now that team has scored and you have no idea why that other player wasn't crushed under millions of tonnes of building." Harry met their grin with his own maniacal look of glee. He knew he would have fun with that.

"Madame hooch teaches a class specifically for the people on the quidditch team." Tonks answered his question before he could ask it.

"I think… I'm going to enjoy this game." Harry grinned, an evil look in his eye as they walked onto the quidditch pitch where the rest of the Hufflepuff team was waiting.

* * *

"Today class, we'll be working on the levitation charm. One of the simplest and most useful charms in any skilled wizards arsenal." Professor Flitwick squeaked from his place standing on the desk at the front of the class.

"The incantation is 'Wingardium Leviosa' speak clearly like always, and move your wand with a simple swish, and flick. Get to work now, I'd like to see everyone lifting their feathers by the end." Harry turned his eye towards his desk, performing the spell first try.

He said a pleasant thank you when professor Flitwick congratulated him and turned to his book on rituals. He'd finally gotten to the last ritual in the book, and it was by far his favorite. It allowed you to lock the physical growth of your pet or familiar indefinitely. If you wanted your cat to stay a kitten forever it would. The pet still aged, it would still die at a normal age, it would just never physically show its aging process beyond what it was at when last you performed the ritual. Harry didn't have a pet yet, but he knew when he did get one he would definitely be using that ritual.

"You're saying it wrong," Harry heard from the table next to his, glancing over to see Hermione and Ron glaring at each other from their table where they were forced to sit together.

Harry glanced to his own partner Susan, both of them rolling their eyes once again at those twos antics. Charms was the only class the Hufflepuffs shared with the Gryffindors, and Harry had been trying to make sure he sat with his friends in his own house as much as his friends in Gryffindor. Neville practically refused to pair with him, claiming that he'd just drag Harry down, but hermione practically begged him to partner with her. Today just happened to be a day he'd already promised to partner with Susan, so of course it would also be the day Hermione and Ron were forced to work together by virtue of everyone else was already taken.

Ron had continued to be the same petulant little jerk the entire two months they'd been at Hogwarts. While Harry could mostly ignore him, Harry knew Hermione and Neville had it bad, especially Neville who had to share a room with him.

The twins apologized for their younger brother practically every day, but it was still a daily annoyance.

"You do it, then, if you're so clever." Ron snarled.

Hermione rolled up her sleeves, flicked her wand and recited the incantation perfectly.

"Oh, well done!" Professor Flitwick cheered, seeing Hermione's gently floating feather.

Harry grabbed Hermione and pulled her to walk with him and Susan, trying to ignore Ron furiously bumbling his way out the class.

"No wonder she hasn't got any real friends, the bints a bloody nightmare!" Ron grumbled (read shouted) to Seamus and dean next to him.

Harry watched in growing anger as Hermione wiped blooming tears from her eyes and rushed forward, passed Ron and into the castle. Susan rushed after her, but Harry was seeing red.

He stalked forward with a look of cold fury on his face, grabbing Ron by the shoulder and spinning him around.

"What the hell is your problem?" He growled out making Seamus and Dean both glance at each other nervously. Ron didn't seem to get the message.

"What's it to you, Potter?" Harry growled again at that. Ron knew full well by now that he preferred being called Dursley.

"What makes you think you can insult people like that Weasley?"

"The dumb bint had it coming. It's pretty pathetic when you're only friend is a freak with green skin, eh Potter?" Ron had the smarmiest, most shit-eating grin Harry had ever seen.

Next Ron knew he was listening to his own nose shatter, briefly seeing stars in his right eye before losing all vision, and falling ass-over-teakettle onto the cold October ground.

Seamus and dean both backed off as Harry stalked into the castle, hoping to find Hermione. He briefly stopped at the bathroom to clean the blood off of his knuckles, only to hear muffled crying and talking coming from the girls restroom.

He glanced around, making sure no-one was coming, before pushing his way into the bathroom.

He saw legs in the back stall, and could hear Susan trying to console a clearly crying Hermione.

"Hermione?" He asked softly from the other side of the door. He heard the crying stifle slightly and Susan stop talking, before he heard Hermione quietly whimpering "Harry?"

"Can I come in?" He asked softly.

It was quiet a few seconds before the stall clicked and Susan held it open for him.

Hermione looked like a mess, her already bushy hair an even wilder mane of curls and frizz. Tears streaking down her cheeks and eyes redder than he'd ever seen. She was curled into a ball on the toilet, shivering in the cold of the unheated bathroom.

"Hermione, you can't listen to that idiot." He said gently, kneeling down next to her and Susan.

"But he's right! I don't have any friends!" She cried out through the mess of hair, arms, and clothes she'd burrowed herself behind.

"Don't have any friends? Hermione you have lots of friends! You have me and Neville, the twins, Cedric likes you well enough, Hagrid and Fluffy-"

"Fluffy doesn't count!" She interrupted him.

Susan mouthed to him "who's Fluffy?"

"Later." He replied, turning back to Hermione.

"Okay, well you have Parvati and Lavender, you told me they'd been warming up to you. And Susan here likes you. I'm sure she'd be your friend on top of that huge list already."

"Of course. Now that I've gotten to know you a little bit you're pretty great to be around when you're not stressing out over homework or a test. I'd love to really get to know you." Susan said gently.

"Rons the one who has no friends. Not you. You're awesome." Harry stated, rubbing her back gently like he knew Marjorie liked when she was sad.

A few seconds later a still sniffling hermione slammed into both Hufflepuffs, pulling them both into the tightest hug they'd ever felt.

When Hermione finally let them both go she looked at them with a happy little smile. Harry excused himself to wait outside while Susan helped Hermione clean up.

When they both came out Harry had a moments warning before he was thrown to the ground by a projectile Hermione, once more launching herself into another hug with him.

"Shut it Susan." He grumbled when he heard Susan chuckling from her place in the doorway next to them.

"Mr Dursley." Harry felt Hermione tense against him, looking up to see Professor Dumbledore looking down at them. Once again with that disappointed look in his eye that Harry still hated.

"Follow you to your office?" Harry asked with a sigh, groaning when Dumbledore gave him a curt nod.

"Alright. Hermione why don't you and Susan go on ahead, I'll meet up with you at the feast tonight.

Hermione looked like she wanted to say something, but a soft tug on her sleeve from Susan had them both walking away.

"Lead the way Professor." Harry said turning to Dumbledore.

The walk up to Dumbledore's office was quiet. Harry wanting to keep from saying something to make his situation worse and Dumbledore keeping quiet in a classic teachers intimidation tactic.

Upon entering the headmasters office, Harry visibly flinched. Professor Mcgonagall was sitting in front of the desk and she did not look happy.

"Take a seat Mr Dursley." Dumbledore spoke behind him. He didn't sound very happy either.

"This is not the first time you have had to sit in this office for laying your hands on another student. Would you like to speak in your own defense? Or would you like to skip to your punishment?"

"I don't tolerate bullies Professor." Harry said simply, ignoring the heated glare from Professor McGonagall.

"Very well. You will be serving three weeks of detention with myself. Obviously physical labor was not enough, you seem to have even come out of that experience with a friend. On top of that you will also be required to apolo-"

"No." Harry cut him off firmly.

"Excuse me?" Professor McGonagall barked, Dumbledore looking on with a serious frown.

"I'll gladly serve the detention, but I'm not apologizing to him."

"And why won't you apologize to the boy you assaulted?" McGonagall spat, sounding very much like she wanted to claw his eyes out.

"Because you have to feel sorry to apologize. And I'm not sorry." Harry said simply.

"You broke his nose, gave him a concussion and burst several veins in his right eye!" McGonagall yelled, standing up to tower over him.

"I've been telling you since day one how obnoxious and awful he is, the kinds of things he says about my friends and I. You did nothing. I told Professor Dumbledore. You did nothing. I told Ron to stop firmly for two months. He didn't. Actions speak louder than words, and when my words proved they weren't working I stopped trying to use them." Harry was returning McGonagall's glare with his own.

"I can understand frustration with a bully Harry but that doesn't mean you can act above the rules."

"I followed the rules. For two months I watched my friends get bullied by a member of their own house while I tried to stop it following the rules. And the rules did nothing. If he gets to ignore the rules and terrorize fellow students then I get to ignore the rules and put a stop to it." Harry bit with an air of finality. As far as he was concerned this argument was done.

"Very well then. If you will not apologize to Mr Weasley then you will at least apologize to his family. And that will be four weeks of detention." Harry nodded. At a look from Dumbledore he stood up and left the office, making his way to the great hall.

* * *

"Harry mate, there you are!"

"When Hermione told us about your little event with our brother this afternoon we were scared you might not be staying here."

"And don't worry mate, we know how much of a right git Rons been. Madame Pomfrey will have him up to his normal nasty self in no time."

Harry gave a tired grin, plopping down in between Hermione and Lee. "Good to know guys, but it's not you two I'm worrying led about."

At their questioning looks Harry explained "Professor Dumbledore tasked me with apologizing to your family. I'm assuming he's planning on bringing your parents here sometime in the next few nights." Both twins winced at that.

"I do not envy you for that mate."

"Our mother is a fantastic woman but-"

"She can be an awful pain when she's angry."

"Just hope you don't get a howler."

"And we'll try to put in a good word for you."

"At least a better one, we have told her a little bit about you in our letters home." The twins sounded more serious than he'd ever heard them. If Harry wasn't excited about confronting their parents before, he definitely wasn't excited now.

"Harry I appreciate you standing up for me but… you shouldn't have hit him like that." Hermione muttered next to him, looking down at the table.

"I tried dealing with him the civil way. Ron didn't respond to civility, so I introduced him to his second option."

"Bu-"

"Hermione I can promise you that I will always exhaust all other options before I resort to violence, but if you want me to promise not to use violence I can't. It will always be my last resort when all other options have failed." Harry cut her off before she could get into some long rant he knew was probably coming.

Hermione frowned at that. Looking back to the table for a while before nodding. "Okay. I can live with that."

Conversation settled pretty comfortably after that. Lee asked them something about their classwork, and the twins asked Harry when they should be expecting to meet Harry on the Quidditch pitch.

Dinner was pretty good, Harry still hated pumpkin but whatever was bringing the food to the table had finally stopped putting pumpkin stuff within arms reach of wherever he was sitting. Harry wasn't exactly sure what the Hallowe'en feast was supposed to be celebrating, but it was at least fun.

"Troll - in the dungeon - thought you'd like to know." And it was all ruined by Professor Quirrell.

The great hall descended into madness pretty quickly, screaming and panicking teenagers standing from their tables and spreading Chaos.

"Quiet!" Dumbledore's voice boomed through the hall, shushing everyone. There was an air of fear through the hall, but the students all trusted Dumbledore.

"Prefects, please lead houses Gryffindor and Ravenclaw to their dormitories. Hufflepuff and Slytherin you will remain here in the great hall. Professors, you will join me in looking for this troll. Hagrid I am leaving the students in your hands." He spoke calmly, immediately ushering the two houses that slept in the towers out of the hall, before sealing it with a series of intricate wand waves.

It was a tense few hours before the Professors returned to usher the students to their dorms, putting an end to the night. Harry fell asleep that night reading a copy of "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" by Newt Scamander. Specifically the several chapters on trolls.

* * *

"So what do you want me to do?" Harry asked, standing in Dumbledore's office the night after Hallowe'en, glancing nervously at the massive pile of parchment and letters in a stray corner.

"Your task for the next few weeks will be to sort and file this paperwork I've managed to scrounge up. My office in the Ministry is seldom used, and quite a bit of files have been allowed to pile up." Dumbledore told him with a gesture towards the pile, more specifically the small chair and desk next to it, and a look that said 'get started'

"How am I supposed to sort this?" Harry asked, sitting down and turning to stare at the pile.

"On the desk you will find a list of names and types of files you should expect to find, and which bin to place them in." Dumbledore replied, turning back to a large book on his desk. He apparently deemed the matter finished.

A few hours and many a paper cut into the pile, 'Im barely making a freaking dent!' Harry mentally shouted, Harry came across a series of letters dated the few days before his birthday, with a name he didn't recognize.

"Professor?"

"Yes Harry?" Dumbledore asked, lifting his eyes from his book for the first time in hours.

"I found a name that's not on the list. Which bin do letters from Nicholas Flamel go into?" Harry asked, glancing at the top letter curiously. The few sentences he managed to read before Dumbledore took the letter from his hand spoke about retrieving some package from a vault 713 at Gringotts.

"I will file that myself, Harry. It is almost curfew, come along and I will escort you back to your dorm." Dumbledore quickly placed the letter into one of the many drawers in his desk, before taking his shoulder and leading Harry from the office.

'Interesting' Harry thought to himself, resolving to look up who this Nicholas Flamel was.

* * *

"Hey Fred, you recognize the name Nicholas Flamel?" Harry asked, absentmindedly rubbing fluffy behind the middle ears from his favored spot sat on his back. He'd been keeping an eye on Susan and Hannah for a little while, but they seemed to warm up to Fluffy a lot faster than Hermione had.

"Nicholas Flamel?"

"The legendary Alchemist?"

"The peerless Potioneer?"

"The creator and originator of the one-"

"The only-"

"Philosopher's stone?"

"Yeah that one. And now I've figured out what it is Fluffy is supposed to be protecting." Harry said, giving the massive dog a good deep scratch, making him pant happily.

The other five occupants of the room all looked confused for a second.

"Harry, what could possibly make you think that the Philosopher's stone is hidden in Hogwarts?" Hermione asked, obviously curious despite her disbelief.

"You guys know how I have detention with Professor Dumbledore for the next few weeks?" The girls all nodded, while the twins shook their heads in a disapproving manner.

"Well he has me sorting his letters and paperwork. The pile of parchment in his office has got to be heavier than Fluffy here. One of the letters I found was written from Nicholas Flamel."

"Makes sense, Nicholas Flamel and Dumbledore have worked together before, and Dumbledore says they're still friends." George piped in, the gears turning in his head.

"I didn't get to read much of it before Dumbledore took it from me, but it said something about retrieving a 'special package' from vault 713 at Gringotts. And it just so happens that I was there with him when he retrieved said package. It all lines up really. Part of the castle is off limits, hiding a Cerberus to protect a suspicious trap door, Nicholas Flamel is writing about picking up a 'package' that is small enough to fit in a person's pocket, and when I briefly spoke with Hagrid he basically confirmed our suspicions that the trap door is hiding something specifically. If it's not the Philosopher's stone then it has to be something else related to Flamel." Harry explained, loving that everyone seemed to be thinking it over themselves.

"So… what do we do with that?" Hannah asked, looking around at everyone else.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, genuinely confused.

"You just said we're probably sitting right on top of the Philosophers stone. You don't think we should do anything with that information?" Hannah sounded frustrated at Harry's confusion.

"I don't care about any fancy stone. Like I've said every time this subject is brought up I just want to play with the puppy." Harry stated firmly, planting his face into the fur around Fluffys neck.

"So we're not going to do anything about the immortality rock below us?" Hermione asked, looking around at everyone else.

"Eh, not like we really care. If not even Harry wants to go after it then we might as well leave it alone." Fred nodded along safely to George's words.

"Plus there's probably more protections beyond the door." Susan supplied, more than happy most of them seemed to share the same opinion in this.

Conversation lulled back into silence after that, occasionally broken by a page turn from Hermione reading or Harry cooing at Fluffy.

* * *

"You ready for this Harry?" Fred asked, a nervous look on both he and his twins face.

Harry looked at them flatly, before pulling the infirmary door open just a crack.

"I WANT THE MONSTER WHO DID THIS TO MY RON EXPELLED! I W-" and Harry closed the door again, still looking pointedly at the twins.

"Point taken." They both said at once, mirroring Harry's look.

At that Harry braced himself, and yanked the door open, silencing everyone in the room.

When Harry was standing in front of the two elder weasleys, next to a now nervous looking mostly healed Ron, he started "Mr and Mrs Weasley? I apologize for causing you to worry. I didn't intend to hit your son as hard as I did, I unfortunately allowed my anger to cloud my actions." Harry was being honest that he was sorry he'd hurt Ron as bad as he did. Professor Dumbledore had informed him his third and last punch to Ron's eye had been a bit more damaging. Were it not for magic he would be permanently blind in that eye.

"SORRY?! You blinded him! You hurt my baby, and all you have to say is Sorry?! You should be on the first train home!" Molly Weasley Shrieked, anger flowing off her in waves.

"Ma'am. I'm truly sorry I hurt your son as bad as I did. But I'm not sorry I hit him. I don't know if you know why I hit him, but your son has been bullying my friends and I for months. Technically he's been rude to me since before we even got to Hogwarts. I told him on more than one occasion to leave us alone. He refused, so I retaliated." Mollys face was red, and it looked like she was about to lay into Harry again before the twins cut her off again.

"He's telling the truth mum. Ron's been nothing but nasty to them all year. He called our friend a bint, practically to her face." Molly gasped at that, before turning her furious look to her now sweating youngest son.

"That had better not be true Ronald!" She screamed, before cuffing him over the head when he just shrunk into himself.

"I told your son multiple times to leave us alone. He decided to ignore me. I told him a grand total of once to stop or I would be retaliating. He decided to ignore me once again. That wasn't a warning, it was a promise. Ron, I am honestly sorry I hit you as hard as I did. I'm sorry for damaging your eye. But I'm not sorry for hitting you, and if you don't leave my friends alone, I will do it again." Harry warned, dropping his glare when Ron nodded.

"Mrs Weasley?" He said, turning to Molly, who looked back at him. She was obviously still mad, but her glare was a little less heated looking at him. She obviously didn't find it comforting that her son had been bullying his classmates.

"Fred and George have become two of my best friends. I had hoped to make a better impression than this when I finally got to meet you. For what it's worth I really am sorry for making you worry." Harry was happy to see her frown soften a tad bit.

"I suppose I can't blame you, I've told my boys to fight back when someone is bullying them or one of their siblings. Fred and George have been writing home about how much they like you. Don't worry Harry, knowing Ron isn't innocent in all this, while I can't immediately forgive you for hurting him I can say I'll warm up. Ron and I will be having a little talk about his behavior here." Harry decided to let it end there, taking what he could get. After a polite goodbye he excused himself to go finish his charms essay.

* * *

"Haaahh… I'm finally done." Harry moaned, hunched over with his hands on his knees. He was standing in front of what used to be a massive pile of parchment, but was now a pile of bins and files.

"Well done Harry. And with only one week left In your detentions." Dumbledore clapped beside him, twinkle in his eye and a pleased grin on his face.

"Another week? I thought I'd be done with this." Harry moaned desperation leaking into his voice.

"Of course not Harry, I assigned you four weeks. Just because you finished your task early does not mean you no longer have to finish that time. Come along, I'll lead you to your next task." He motioned Harry to follow him, trotting off towards a large painting of a former headmaster behind his desk.

The portrait eyed Harry for a moment, before swinging open revealing a hidden room behind it.

Inside Harry found walls lined with empty shelves, and another massive pile of parchment. This time sealed in book form.

"This, Harry, is my own personal library. These books are collected from a lifetime of study, as well as quite a few of my own books I've written on my own time. It would seem that they need sorting, as a particularly vindictive Poltergeist has decided to remove them from their shelves. And if you happen to read from a few of them, or one or two manages to disappear from my less than watchful gaze, then I suppose it cannot be helped." Dumbledore smiled at Harry's shocked look, before excusing himself.

Harry took a moment to give a shocked look back towards the now closed portrait, before a grin spread across his face. This was going to be a fun week.

* * *

"You staying at the castle for the holidays Harry?" Lee asked, shaking his essay in the air to get the ink to dry.

"Nope. Promised my brother I'd be back for Christmas. Plus Christmas is my baby sisters birthday." Harry said distractedly, pulling splinters from a whimpering Fluffys paws. Apparently he'd been trying to paw at the door.

"Your sister was born on Christmas? She must get absolutely spoiled on presents every year."

"Oh she does, but it's fine."

"Well you better enjoy yourself. The rest of us will be living it up here at the castle." Fred called from the other side of the room, idly checking their notes while George stirs at some potion they're making. Harry didn't bother asking, choosing to stay out of whatever this particular prank would be.

"What did you get your sister Harry?" Harry grinned at that, pulling a stuffed unicorn from the backpack at his side. Immediately upon it setting upon the floor, it began to gallop around the room.

"Found a charm that permanently animates objects to act like living versions of whatever their shaped as. Then I also found a charm that coincides, bonding the object like a familiar when activated." Harry watched it trounce around the room, before settling down in front of the girls.

"That's amazing. But did you test it beforehand, what if it failed? What if-"

"Gonna stop you right there Hermione. Of course I tested it." Harry reached into his bag, tapping his stuffed Green Mamba on the head.

Everyone watched as a long stuffed green snake slithered out of his bag, wrapping itself around Harry's shoulders, nudging him in the cheeks affectionately.

"That settles that then. Good work Harry, don't suppose you could give us that spell?" George reached up to catch a small wad of paper Harry threw at him.

"Cheers mate."

All three girls rolled their eyes, turning back to their books.

* * *

"I love it I love it I love it! Thank you Harry!" A delighted young Marjorie Dursley screamed, hugging Harry and her new living stuffed Unicorn like her life depended on it.

Harry chuckled to himself, returning the hug proudly.

Christmas had gone fantastically, everyone watching as the little girl happily tore into her mountain of presents. Dudley was happily testing his new gloves, charmed to cushion all force. No more bruised knuckles.

Both elder Dursleys and Mrs Figg sat watching with patient smiles on their face. They'd been a little hesitant about what to get Harry, what do you get someone who spends all day learning magic? But it didn't matter as it turns out, Harry thanking them with the same exuberance he'd used every year. Immediately donning the new jacket, and glancing through the books, before putting them to the side.

"Good afternoon all. Happy Christmas. And a very special Happy birthday to you Marjorie." Albus said, stepping out of the fireplace.

"Happy Christmas Professor."

"Please Harry, it's Albus when we are away from school." Harry grinned, matching Albus.

"Marjorie, this is for you." Albus said, placing a large package wrapped in sparkly paper in front of the cheering young girl. "And for you Dudley." He said, placing a much smaller bundle in front of a surprised Dudley.

"And a very special gift for you Harry." He said, handing Harry the last of his packages.

"Thank you Uncle Albus." Harry mumbled, unwrapping the soft bundle in his lap.

Inside he found a long cloak, made of some smooth silvery material. He held it up, wondering what was so special about it, noticing it was really more like a giant sheet than an article of clothes. He shrugged to himself when he couldn't see anything special about it, wrapping it around himself.

"Well that's interesting." He heard Dudley mutter, staring at him.

"What's wrong?" He asked, looking down at his chest.

"Well that's interesting." He muttered. Staring at the empty space that used to be him.

Petunia and Vernon were both looking at Harry shocked.

"That, Harry, is an invisibility cloak. It belonged to your father, your birth father that is. He asked me to hold onto it when you went into hiding, and I felt it was finally time to give it to you. I had intended to give it to you earlier in the year, but after your multiple incidents with your classmates," Albus gave Harry a look at that, nodding at the sheepish look Harry gave. "I decided to wait and give it to you for Christmas." Albus finished, pinning Harry with a look that told him not to be using it for anything "irresponsible".

"This is amazing." Harry whispered, slipping the cloak over his face, seeing that the cloak acted like a two-way mirror, letting him see out but no one could see him.

The twins were going to love this.

* * *

"This is fantastic." Both twins said at once, looking down at their missing bodies.

Fluffy was watching curiously, all three heads tilted staring as the two orange headed humans disappeared and reappeared.

"You said this belonged to your birth father?" Lee asked, poking the air where Fred and George should have been, apologizing when his finger jabbed George's stomach.

"Yup. Keep quiet about it yeah? This is going to be quite useful." Harry was grinning like a loon, he couldn't wait to see what kind of mischief they could get into with an invisibility cloak.

"Oh my dear Harry."

"This?"

"This is going to be much more than just useful."

"This is a pranksters dream." The twins matched his grin, plans running through their heads a mile a minute.

Lee just rolled his eyes with a patient smile.

* * *

Harry silently made his way through the castle, his cloak hiding him from view. It was only a few minutes after curfew, he'd just gotten caught up reading in the library. He figured if a prefect or professor saw him he could just tell them and he'd be all clear, but just to be safe he decided to use the cloak.

Moving down another corridor, Harry came to a stop next to an unused classroom. The door was open. Unless someone had used it recently doors in Hogwarts were never open. This one had just been left open by a crack, and Harry had no idea why because he'd never seen anyone go in there before. He just assumed that door was an empty room no longer in use.

Deciding to do some investigation, Harry pushed his way in, closing the door softly behind him. He was right, it was in fact an unused classroom, desks and chairs were piled up against one room, and there was another door on the other side of the room he knew would lead to an office.

What was unusual was the mirror. It was standing in the middle of the room, and it was huge. Easily nine feet tall, and probably three feet wide. Harry slipped out of his cloak, walking up to the mirror, wondering what could be so special about it to warrant hiding it in an empty classroom no one used.

When Harry was stood in front of it, he saw himself staring back, the same confused look on his face he knew he had. He glanced up to the top of the mirror, noticing some kind of engraving, before letting it be. His gaze turned back to his reflection, before he let out a shocked little gasp.

He wasn't alone, standing around him he could see his family, his parents standing behind him, his brother next to him and his little sister in his hands. But there were more people too, Albus and Arabella stood next to his parents, behind his mom he could see the grinning face of doctor Howard, and next to Arabella stood two people he'd only ever seen in pictures. He choked up a little, seeing the faces of his birth parents. The last person was someone he'd never seen though. He was standing next to Albus, and they were holding hands. He was young, he had short blonde hair. In an exposed holster on his wrist he had a wand that looked exactly like Albus's now. Harry assumed this must have been Albus's husband he'd been told about. Ever since Harry learned about Albus's dead husband Harry had wished he'd never passed, he knew how unhappy it made Albus.

Everyone was just standing together, looking at him with happy smiles or grins on their faces. Harry found it really hard to look away, this was everything he'd ever secretly wanted. Harry never got to know his birth parents, but he knew how much his mom and Albus missed them.

He just stood there and stared, committing to memory the scene. Every now and then someone would do something, at some point his mom and birth mom had ended up hugging, and marjorie was now sitting on reflection him's shoulders.

"I see like many others before you the mirror of erised has ensnared your attention." Harry heard from next to him. He looked away from the mirror to see Albus stood next to him with a sad smile on his face.

"This isn't real is it?" Harry asked, looking back to the mirror, seeing the reflection version of Albus saying something to the person he'd never seen before. 'Gellert' he thought, remembering Albus's husbands name.

"No harry, as much as we may wish it, the mirror of erised does not show a simple reflection of reality. It shows us what we desire most in this world. For example I see myself holding a very nice pair of socks. I imagine you must see your family, including your birth parents, correct?"

"Yeah, but it's not really cause I want them. I never really knew them, it's hard to miss someone you don't know. But I know how much it breaks my moms heart that my biological parents are gone. I guess I would want them there for my parents sake. I don't like when people I care about are unhappy." Harry glances to his parents, smiling a bit when the reflections nodded at his explanation, it seemed they agreed.

"Well said Harry. I hope I don't have to tell you not to let this mirror consume you. Too many good wizards and witches have wasted away staring at the image of their desires." Albus told him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry professor, it's nice seeing this and all, but it won't consume me or anything like that." Harry didn't even have to look to know that Albus had a proud look on his face.

"Very good. Do not try to find this mirror again Harry, I had already planned on moving it to a new home tonight, and it would do you no good focusing on matters beyond your reach."

"Of course professor. I think I'll go on to bed." Harry said, turning away from the mirror, and slipping his cloak over his shoulders. He stopped before he put the hood over his face though.

"Albus. If you don't mind me asking, what do you really see?" He asked quietly, staring at Albus's back.

Albus was silent for a while, and Harry thought for a moment he might not answer, but then he heard a quiet "A life I never got to live."

Harry nodded, thinking he understood. "Have a good night Albus." He said quietly, slipping the hood over his face and disappearing. The door closing behind him masked the sound of several teardrops hitting the stone floor.

* * *

"Hey Hagrid, what're you doing in the library?" Harry asked from his place in between Fred and Hermione. Hermione had basically demanded that their time be spent in the Library when she had the startling realization that final exams were in ten weeks.

Harry tried to explain she didn't need to study this hard when it's 2 months away, but other than a promise to take it a little bit easier (which Harry didn't think she'd really kept) she had been adamant about reviewing.

"Jus' lookin." Hagrid replied in a shifty voice, glancing around with an arm behind his back.

"You seem nervous Hagrid, everything alright?" The twins asked together, unnerving Hagrid even more.

"Jus' getting a book, nothing to bother yerselves about." He mumbled, refusing to meet their eyes.

"You wouldn't be getting up to anything you shouldn't be, would you Hagrid?" George asked in a teasing voice, grinning when large beads of sweat began to drop from Hagrids forehead.

He glanced around the library, before bending down to their level to whisper - to everyone else it was a normal speaking voice, but they didn't have the heart to break it to Hagrid - "can't talk about it here, you lot come down to me hut after supper, I'll show you." He said, before standing back up and rushing off.

"Guess we're breaking curfew." Harry stated, turning back to his own book.

* * *

"No." The twins, lee and Hermione all state at once. The moment they walked into the "hut" and saw the egg they knew exactly what was coming. Harry didn't even get to finish his first word.

"But-"

"No."

"Come on its-"

"No."

"Hermione you can't-"

"No!"

"But… Dragon egg!"

"You can't have a dragon Harry!" Four voices cry out together, confusing their gargantuan host.

"Can I at least watch it hatch?" Harry asked, trying his best to look cute with his begging.

"Fine, but you're lucky I'm even agreeing to this. You already somehow convinced a Cerberus into basically being your pet, you don't need a dragon too." Hermione was glaring pointedly at him, conveying just what she thought of that particular development.

"Hermione just because I want to see a dragon doesn't mean I have any intention of making it my pet." Harry said, staring at the egg in the fire, with his fingers crossed under the table.

There was no way he was letting an opportunity like this pass him up.

* * *

The next few weeks, if he wasn't in class or at practice, Harry could be found in the library.

If anyone happened to ask him why he was reading various books on magical creatures, dragons, and the occasional raising a dangerous pet manual, well teenage boys could sometimes be a bit too curious for their own good right?

* * *

"Hey there Hagrid!" Harry shouted as he let himself into Hagrids hut, plopping down on a seat at the table. Harry had been over to "visit" almost every night since Hagrid had shown him the dragon egg. Hagrid thought nothing of it, enjoying the company, and Harry had proven to be a delightful new friend, sharing interests in all kinds of topics and hobbies.

"Evnin' Harry! Yer jus in time, think tonight might be the night!" Hagrid was just as jovial as always, slipping on some giant sized mittens to grab the egg out of its place on the fire and place it on his table.

Harry couldn't hide his excitement seeing the egg wibble wobble in every direction. Some parts of it were even bulging out as if something were trying to get out. His chair unconsciously scooted closer.

"Book says should be about another hour before the eggs cool enough for the little guy on the inside to get out. I'll put on a pot of tea while we wait." Hagrid said, walking around Harry to the small area he used as his kitchen, missing the large bag Harry had brought with him.

Now the bag itself was not out of the ordinary, it was just Harry's book bag, he had it with him practically everywhere in the castle. What was curious about the bag on this night was just how much it was bulging outwards. It had obviously been overstuffed.

Now Harry had been preparing the contents of this bag for quite a while. Inside were two different books on rituals, one of them about familiars which he got at Diagon Alley when he picked up his school supplies, and the other a book he borrowed from Albus's personal collection with a very particular page bookmarked. The rest of the bags contents though, that was the truly unusual part.

Two bags of items, each labeled with a number, one and two, filled to the max with various herbs, little trinkets and objects, and both with various kinds of chalk. To anyone who knew what that particular kind of chalk was meant for, the bags contents would look quite suspect.

To put it simply, Harry had a plan for tonight, and from the moment he sat down he was executing it. The particular chair he chose this night was the critical first step. The quick levitation charm he cast on the egg to turn the part of the egg he knew the dragons head and forelegs would be toward him was the second. Hagrid was none the wiser to these steps, happily making his tea and conversing with Harry.

Part of Harry get bad for using Hagrid like he was, but he made peace with that part weeks ago. He'd made up his mind.

A little over an hour of friendly conversation later, both Hagrid and Harry were interrupted from their discussion of quidditch by a sharp crack from in between them. They both stopped talking, and Harry held his breath. This was the most critical part of the plan, if the dragon didn't see him first, all his prep would be for nothing.

Both Harry and Hagrid watched in awe as the tiny little creature inside slowly pushed its way out, its tiny little claws coming first, before its head came out as well. It's eyes were not open yet, it took a few minutes for a newly hatched dragon to open their eyes for the first time. When it had finally shoved its way out of the egg, it pulled itself onto shaky front claws, slowly swung its adorably tiny little head up, and slowly opened its eyes, fluttering them a bit to adjust to the new light it was seeing for the first time. And then it looked directly at Harry. Harry could feel it instantly, the moment he made eye contact with the newborn he could feel the connection it made with his magic. It had imprinted on him.

Mission success.

Hagrid across the table could tell instantly. He'd spent a lot of time around magical creatures, and he could tell when one imprinted on something. He felt a brief moment of disappointment, but it washed away the moment the little newborn dragon shakily crawled itself into Harry's lap. The two looked absolutely adorable together.

"Well would yeh look at that. Looks like you got herself a new friend there Harry." Hagrid grinned. He'd always loved dragons, and seeing Harry cradle the newborn was one of the most heartwarming scenes he'd ever seen.

"We need to get him something to eat." Harry muttered, his eyes never leaving the dragon playfully nipping at his arms. It hurt like hell, but he sure wasn't going to be the one to make it stop.

"Course. Got some specially made biscuits right here, should get him all big and strong in no time." Hagrid said with a chuckle, grabbing the food and sliding it over to Harry. The book he'd read stressed that dragons needed to eat upon hatching, so their bones could harden and they could get their first bit of growth in. Little known fact dragons reached maturity within hours of hatching. Meaning they could fly, breath fire, and their claws and teeth were razor sharp. They still needed time to grow, but even a day old they were still some of the most dangerous predators in the world.

A few hours later Harry and Hagrid were watching a dragon the size of an average corgi swooping around breathing little bouts of fire at everything it saw. Hagrid was glad he'd taken Harry's suggestion to layer his hut in fire protection wards, otherwise he'd be standing in a pile of ashes and in need of a new home.

Over that time Harry came clean and explained to Hagrid what he was planning to do. What he'd already done. Hagrid couldn't really find it within him to be mad, he knew he didn't really have the time to raise a dragon anyway, and with Harry's plan he would be able to see the little guy anytime anyway. One thing Harry did to try to make it up to him, he let Hagrid name the newborn. Harry felt he at least owed Hagrid that.

Hagrid was touched, and after dubbing the little dragon Norbert, he gladly turned over responsibility to Harry.

The first ritual Harry performed that night was the familiar bond ritual. Familiar bonds could be formed in quite a few ways, but the fastest was the ritual, and while Harry would love to let the bond form naturally he needed the full bond for the second ritual he wanted to perform that night. Placing Norbert down in the center of the runes he'd drawn in chalk on the floor, he quickly activated the ritual circle. It had taken way too long to catch the excitable little baby, and he was not wanting to have to do that again.

The markings on the floor flashed a blinding blue, before a golden light shot from Harry's chest into Norbert's, and suddenly Harry felt an undeniable connection to Norbert. It was like a part of each of them was removed, and a part of him was left in the dragon, and part of Norbert was left in him. He could feel part of what Norbert was feeling, the confusion and excitement that only a newborn could feel. And he knew Norbert could feel the connection too. The golden light connecting the two grew stronger and stronger, seeming to practically become a physical link between the two, before flashing a blinding white, and disappearing. They could still feel it though. Norbert was now Harry's familiar.

The second ritual wasn't even close to as eventful. It was a simple one, all it did was lock a familiars age. Preventing them from physically growing beyond what they were when the ritual was performed. With a quick flash of light the components and the chalk on the ground disappeared, and Norbert was left sitting patiently on the ground. Getting him to sit there was a lot easier the second time around, now that Norbert could understand him.

Probably the best benefit of the familiar bond, both parties could understand each other after it was formed. And no that didn't mean Harry could speak dragon, or Norbert could speak English. It was more like, they just understood what each other wanted behind the words. Norbert didn't know what the word sit or stay meant, but he could feel through the connection what Harry meant, so he complied.

After another hour of visiting with Hagrid, and getting used to the feeling of the familiar bond, Harry said goodnight. Norbert latched himself onto Harry's back, his head coming up to gaze around next to Harry's own. Harry pushes them both under his invisibility cloak and made his way back up to the castle. Harry did not get far into the entrance hall before he saw Albus standing patiently.

"Please come with me Harry, I feel we need to have a discussion about your new friend." Albus said pleasantly, stepping off in the direction of his office. He stifled a chuckle when he heard soft footsteps start to follow him.

A short few moments of walking in silence later Harry was sitting in a chair across from Albus at his desk.

"Would you care to introduce me to your new friend Harry?" Albus asked with playful twinkle in his eye.

"This is Norbert, Hagrid let me have him. And don't worry, I already took the necessary precautions to keep him from getting too dangerous." Harry held Norbert up in his arms, the little dragon curiously studying the elderly man across from him.

"I had no doubt you would Harry, I merely brought you here to fill out the necessary paperwork. Students that want a familiar other than a cat toad or rat must sign a few forms for documentation purposes. Simply sign these and you and your familiar may continue on to bed."

Harry signed where he was asked to sign, apologizing profusely when Norbert torched the first set in an accidental cough of flame. Albus let out a hearty laugh at that, gaining way more amusement than Harry thought he should.

As Harry said goodnight and made his way towards the door, Albus called after him "Oh and Harry, 50 points from Hufflepuff for sneaking out after dark for the last month and a half. Have a good night."

Harry had to stifle his own chuckle as he made his way back to the Hufflepuff dormitory.

* * *

"I really should not even be surprised." Hermione muttered in disbelief as Harry made his way to the Gryffindor table with Norbert perched on his shoulders the next morning.

"No, you really shouldn't." Lee stated smugly, holding his hand out to the twins, grinning when they both slapped a handful of sickles and galleons in his hand.

"This is Norbert." Harry said smugly, gesturing to the Dragon sitting on his shoulder.

"Hi Norbert." Hermione groaned out, turning back to her food to ignore the self satisfied grin on Harry's face.

* * *

"Harry is that a dragon?" Susan asked.

"It is."

"Should we be concerned that you have a dragon?" Hannah followed up.

"Not particularly.'

"Will you be telling us how you acquired this dragon?" Justin continued.

"Wasn't planning on it."

"Can i pet your dragon?' Tonks finished.

"Of course."

And that was it.

* * *

"Hey, play nice you two!" Harry shouted, seeing Norbert and Fluffy snapping at each other. The two seemed to be friendly, considering they were both young, but Fluffy was clearly scared of Norbert. That didn't mean the Cerberus wasn't going to get mad when the dragon ate his treats.

Norbert took to the air and swooped over to him, crawling under his shirt and pouting. Fluffy let out a few chuffs and padded over to his trap door, plopping down with his heads turned away from Harry and closing his eyes, pouting in his own way.

Harry just chuckled and went back to reading. The twins had something big planned in the next few days, so they were off preparing, his classmates were off celebrating finishing their last final, and Hermione was busy cramming for her last one tomorrow. The girl could probably pass the test in her sleep, but hey who was he to stop her.

He was alone tonight, so he decided to spend his time with fluffy, and get some personal reading in.

At some point he had zoned out, becoming so engrossed in his reading he completely forgot the world around him. He didn't notice Robert fell asleep on his back, nor did he notice fluffy fall asleep, nor did he pay any attention to the time. The sun had long since set, and curfew had long since passed.

He didn't notice when the door opened, but he definitely noticed when he heard music start to play. He looked up from his book confused, and saw professor Quirrel levitating a sleeping Fluffy away from the trap door.

"Hey! What are you doing!" Harry shouted, in what he realized was a bad idea very quickly when quirrel spun to him wand in hand.

"Potter! What, are you doing here?" Quirrel yelled, wand tip glowing in an Uncast spell.

"I-" "Bring the boy!" He heard someone interrupt in a disgusting whisper. He had no idea who said it, but he knew he didn't like it.

"Yes master." He heard Quirrel say, before suddenly he was wrenched from his sitting position and in front of Quirrel. He felt a wand jab into his chest, and then heard the trapdoor fly open.

"After you, Potter." Quirrel spat out, and Harry gulped. It seemed like he was going after the Philosopher's stone after all.

Harry considered arguing, but decided against it, instead bracing himself and dropping into the dark hole. A few seconds later he felt his feet sink into something soft but firm. And then he began to panic. He couldn't see, but from what he could feel of the things wrapping around his lower body he knew what this was. Devils snare, an incredibly dangerous plant they learned about in Herbology. Harry didn't know any fire spells, and Norbert was sleeping. He knew from experience it was practically impossible to wake the little dragon when it didn't want to be.

He heard a thump, and knew Quirrel had dropped in after him.

"Oh Pomona really? Something as simple as devils snare? I truly am disappointed ." He heard Quirrel bite out, before his vision was filled with fire.

Suddenly the devils snare released him, and he was falling again. He landed hard a few seconds later, groaning as he felt his legs and sides bruising.

"Get up Potter." He heard above him, and slowly pulled himself up. He wanted to ask Quirrel something, but he was interrupted by a wand jabbing into his chest and being pushed toward a door he hadn't noticed yet.

On the other side he saw a room filled with thousands of keys, all charmed to have wings and fly around the room. Quirrel made a gesture with his wand and suddenly a key shot out of the crowd towards him. Quirrel caught it with a laugh.

"Really Flitwick? You would build a defense that wasn't protected from a simple summoning charm. Yet again I find myself disappointed." The key was used to open the door and quickly pocketed. Harry guesses Quirrel didn't want anyone following them, and this was a pretty smart way of going about it, even if that wasn't exactly a good thing for him.

The next room was a giant chess board. Harry found himself extremely confused why this is what was even here, and then deadpanned when a gesture from Quirrels wand had the opposing king blow up in a shower of rubble. The pawns, who had been spreading their swords out in a line to block anyone from getting through, all sheathed their swords and bowed.

"Even you McGonagall. Does no one understand what they were meant to be protecting?" Quirrel sounded angry, which was definitely not good for Harry.

They walked across the board, and as soon as the door was open and the black king reformed and the pawns moved back to their beginning stance. 'Why play chess instead of just animating a bunch of soldiers to attack?' Harry asked himself, before his mind went blank.

Standing in the middle of the next room, was a troll. It was huge, and ugly, and smelled like a landfill, and was lumbering towards them with a massive club in its hands. Harry has about to turn and run, Quirrel be damned, when he felt Quirrels wand pull away from him.

"Avada Kadavra!" Quirrel hissed, and a bolt of disgustingly green energy shot from his wand. It struck the troll on the chest, and the troll immediately stumbled and collapsed. Dead in an instant. Harry decided it was a very bad idea to try and run.

He felt Quirrels wand press into his back yet again, slowly made his way forward to the next door. As Harry walked passed the troll he felt true terror. One of the most dangerous magical creatures in the world, killed in an instant by one spell.

As they entered the next room flames burst to life in the doorway behind them. Looking ahead there were flames blazing in the doorway in front of them too. The only thing in the room other than them was a small table with several potions perched on it. Harry felt a small pinch in his shoulder, and then he couldn't move. Quirrel stepped away from him and walked to the table, he read a note on it, before grabbing one of the bottles and drinking about half in one gulp. He stomped back over to Harry, and forced the rest of it down his throat, Harry couldn't swallow, so the potion kind of just oozed back into his throat, and down into his stomach. Then he felt another pinch in his shoulder, and suddenly he could move again.

A jab in the shoulder and they were moving towards the door.

Looking around the next room Harry felt his stomach drop. There were no more doors, this was the last room. And in the center of the circular room, stood the mirror of Erised. He fought away any panic he felt at seeing no stone. The mirror was definitely not what Quirrel was after.

"What is this?" Quirrel hissed, pushing Harry up to the mirror. As soon as he was in front of the mirror he saw himself standing with all his family, no Quirrel, just him and all of them.

"I see myself, I'm presenting the stone to my master, but where is it?" Quirrel screamed out. He reached forward to grab at the mirror, probably trying to grab the stone. But he couldn't, it was just a reflection.

"Where is the stone Potter? You must know something!" Quirrel gelled, spinning him around to look at him.

"I-I don't kn-know!" Harry stuttered out. He was beyond caring about how scared he sounded.

"He's lying! Get him to tell us where the stone is." Harry heard the same voice from earlier hiss out, and he unconsciously backed up, his back hitting the mirror.

"Where is it Potter! Tell us now!"

"I don't know!" Harry screamed.

"Liar! Show him to me! I want him to see just who I am." The voice yelled as loud as it could. It was still muffled but Harry could definitely still make out a hiss like rasp.

"Yes master." Quirrel reaches up to his turban, unwrapping it slowly, before turning around and presenting Harry it's the back of his head.

But it wasn't his head. There was a face growing out of it, ugly and deformed and absolutely terrifying.

"A disgusting sight I know, but this is what you left me to Harry. Somehow a pathetic, weak little infant left me, the greatest wizard who ever lived, to this. Are you surprised to see me again?" The face growled out, and all the fear Harry felt was multiplied. This was… this was Voldemort. He was still alive. Kind of?

And then his fear was replaced with something else. Enter. And then fury. And then pure, unadulterated rage. This was the monster that nearly destroyed the magical world and murdered his birth parents.

"That's why you want the stone. You want it to come back to life." Harry ground out, all hints of fear leaving him as his fists clenched and his body tensed.

"Yes, and when you give me my stone I will finally be able to finish what I started. Now tell me where it is! I know you know." Voldemort did not notice the change in his hostage, all he paid attention to was his own wand in his hand and Harry's not being in his.

Harry lost control for a moment, his vision changing to his colors. In the room around him he saw the same beautiful living mix of colors he saw everywhere in Hogwarts, but in front of him he only saw red. The darkest, most horrible red he'd ever seen.

"No." He stated. And before Quirrel/Voldemort could react, he lashed forward, his fist connecting with Voldemort's twisted grotesque face. And then he heard screaming, and Voldemort's face looked third degree burned right where he'd touched it. He didn't even stop to think about that, deciding instead he wanted to do it again.

He lashed out at the screaming Quirrel and grabbed him by the neck, smoke billowing out from below his hands. Quirrel was writhing under him, trying to get away, but Harry kicked out and smashed his knees, sending the abomination to the ground in a screaming mess.

Harry wasted no time, slamming one hand on its forehead, and the other right above his heart.

The screaming just got worse. Until with a burst of light and heat Quirrel burst into a cloud of ash and dust.

Harry stood there a moment, letting what he'd just done sink in, before he heard a loud shriek. Looking down he saw a black cloud like mass swirl up from the pile of ash, before rushing towards him with a scream. It collided with his chest and with a rush of pain he collapsed, out cold.

* * *

" _Uncle Albus?" Harry asked from his spot on the floor in he and his brothers bedroom. He'd managed to convince Albus to come upstairs and play with him for a little while, but Harry was curious about something._

" _Yes Harry?" Albus replied with a patient smile on his face._

" _Do you have any brothers or sisters? Like I have Dudley and Marjorie?" Harry asked, putting his toys down and looking up to Albus._

" _I do indeed Harry. I have two brothers, and a little sister. And I love them very much." Harry could tell Albus was really happy. He wanted to hear more, so he walked over and sat down next to Albus._

" _Can you tell me about them?" He asked, looking up at Albus._

" _Of course I can! I have my brother Aberforth, my little sister Ariana, and my youngest brother Credence. Aberforth works a…"_

* * *

Harry woke up slowly, his head aching like he'd just gotten out of the most intense boxing match ever. He groaned to himself. As he laid back down to try to relieve some of the pain, he thought back to the dream he'd had. He still remembered vividly all the wonderful things Albus had said about his siblings. It always made Harry happy thinking back, that was probably the most excited he'd ever seen Albus. The man really loved his family. Harry still looked forward to the day he got to meet them.

A few minutes later he felt better enough to at least start paying attention to the world around him. He opened his eyes, slowly pulling himself into a sitting position.

"HARRY!" And now his head was ringing again, and there was a teenage girl crushing his ribcage.

"Hermione…can't… breathe." Harry wheezed out, trying to pull the girl off of him, without much success. Luckily she let go quickly after, shooting out apologies and questions about his well being.

"Hermione please slow down." He whimpered our, clutching his throbbing head.

"Ms Granger please control yourself or you'll be asked to leave." The school mediwitch, Madam Pomfrey, spike up from near Harry. He hadn't even noticed she was there.

"Here Mr Potter, drink this, it'll help with the headache." Harry cracked his eyes open a pinch, seeing a cup held out in front of him. He quickly snatched it and gulped down the potion. It tasted like he imagined vomit tastes, but already his head was feeling better.

A few moments later he finally opened his eyes and was able to focus clearly on the world around him. The first thing he noticed was the baby dragon perched on the door of his bed, head swiveling around like he was keeping watch.

The second thing he noticed was the amount of people he did not realize were surrounding him. The twins, Lee, Hermione and Neville, pretty much all of Hufflepuff house, and Albus and Madam Pomfrey.

"How long was I out, and what did those two try to do to me while I was?" That sent a wave of laughter through the whole crowd. Harry grinned. He chose to ignore the fact that some undetermined amount of time ago he murdered a man in cold blood.

* * *

"Then I punched him, and he just burnt up. It was like just touching me was enough to kill him. After that I kind of just passed out, and then woke up this morning." Harry finished, looking at Albus sat next to his bed.

"You did very well Harry, I'm just sorry you had to go through that at all." Albus was smiling at him like a proud grandfather, with maybe just a touch of pity, but Harry didn't really care about that.

"Something I don't get professor? Where was the stone, was it hidden in the mirror or something?" Albus chuckled at that, and a mischievous sparkle flickered in his eye.

"I had considered placing it in the mirror, with a rather ingenious charm that would make it impossible to retrieve the stone if one had any desire to use it, but I decided ultimately on a more diabolical hiding place." He was grinning, and Harry had no idea whether to grin with him or be scared.

"Where?" Harry asked, trying to think of all the places it could have been. 'Did he make the troll swallow it?' He thought, shuddering at the idea.

Albus's grin widened, before he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a large red gemstone, emitting a faint glow.

Harry was stunned. "Has that been in your pocket the whole time?" He asked, staring at it.

"Of course Harry. Why would I ever be so irresponsible as to leave one of the most powerful magical artifacts in existence where any old person could find it?" He teased.

A lightbulb clicked in Harry's head. It was brilliant really, make a person go through all of that, think they had it, when in reality it was actually even safer, in the custody of the greatest wizard who ever lived.

"The trials were just for show." Harry said, the puzzle pieces all clicking together.

"Of course Harry, those trials were easy enough for a group of 11 year olds to get passed, I would never leave something as important as the stone defended by them. It was all a clever act. A ruse. A trap. I only wish you hadn't been swept up in it."

"Don't worry about it professor, I came out of it no worse for wear, minus the wicked headache." Harry smiled, trying to reassure him.

They talked for a little bit longer after that, Harry asked what would happen to the stone, and was not surprised to find out it would be going back to its rightful owner.

Shortly after Albus left Harry dozed off to sleep. He'd be cleared to leave the hospital wing in the morning, and then he'd be going home the day after that.

He couldn't wait to see his family again.


End file.
